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J  C-  O  5 


LITERARY  LANDMARKS  OF  LONDON, 


THK    DROKSHOUT    PORTRAIT    OF    SHAKESPEARK. 

By  Photojrrapliy  from  the  Folio  of  1623. 


LITERARY  LANDMARKS 
-      OF  LONDON 


By   LAURENCE   BUTTON 

AUTHOR     OF     "literary     LANDMARKS     OF     EDINBURGH 
"curiosities  OF  THE    AMERICAN  STAGE  "   ETC. 


-■-T?5.  -' 


001 


REVISED      AND      ENLARGED 


J(^^  S 


WITH   PORTRArrS 


NEW    YORK 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS.    FRANKLIN    SQUARE 

1892 


Copyright,  1885,  by  Laurknce  Hutton. 


Copyright,  1888,  by  Laurknce  Hi'tto.v. 


Copyright,  1892,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


All  rights  reserved. 


w  o 

PREFACE   TO   THE    EIGHTH  EDITION, 


THE  gratifying  success  of  this  work  on  both  sides  of 
the  Atlantic,  and  the  fact  that  it  has  been  accepted  as 
an  authority  by  the  later  writers  upon  London,  serve  to  war- 
rant its  appearance  in  a  new  and  illustrated  form.  It  has 
been  carefully  revised  for  this  Edition  ;  a  number  of  Sup- 
plementary Notes  have  been  added  by  way  of  Appendix ; 
and,  as  far  as  possible,  it  has  been  brought  down  to  the 
present  day.  It  is  felt  that  the  many  portraits  now  for 
the  first  time  printed  with  it,  will  give  it  new  interest  and 
value  in  the  eyes  of  all  lovers  of  London  and  of  her  literary 
associations. 

L.  H. 

January  1,  1892. 


PORTRAITS. 


—  ,        Faces  page 

Shakespeare,  William  .  Frontispiece 

Addison,  Joseph 2 

Bacon,  Francis 12 

Baillie,  Joanna 14 

Baxter,  Richard 16 

Beaumont,  Francis     ....      18 

Bosweli,  James 20 

Bronte,  Charlotte 22 

Buiiyan,  John 26 

Butler,  Samuel 28 

Byron,  Lord 32 

Campbell,  Thomas      ....     36 

Carlyle,  Tliomas 38 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey 46 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor     .     .     56 

Cowper,  William 66 

D'Arblay,  Madame     ....     72 

Defoe,  Daniel 76 

De  Quincey,  Thomas  ....     78 

Dickens,  Charles 82 

Disraeli,  Benjamin      ....     86 

Drayton,  Michael 90 

Dryden,  Jolm 92 

Eliot,  George 98 

Fletcher,  John 108 

Franklin,  Benjamin    .      .      .      .110 

(iay,  John 112 

Gibbon,  Edward 114 


Faces  page 

Godwin,  William 116 

Goldsmith,  Oliver  .     .     .     .     .118 

Gower,  John 1 26 

Gray,  Thomas 128 

Hazlitt,  William 132 

Herrick,  Robert 136 

Hood,  Tliomas 138 

Hook,  Theodore 140 

Hunt,  Leigh 144 

Iiichbald,  Elizabeth    ....   150 

Jameson,     Mrs 152 

Johnson,  Samuel 162 

Keats,  John 178 

Lamb,  Charles 186 

Landor,  W^alter  Savage  .     .     .194 

Lovelace,  Richard 198 

Lover,  Samuel 200 

Macaulay,   Lord 202 

Massinger.  Pliilip 208 

Milton,  John 214 

Montagu,  Mary  Wortley       .     .   218 

Moore,  Thomas 220 

More,  Hannah 222 

More,  Sir  Thomas       ....   224 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac 228 

Penn,  William 230 

Pope,  Alexander 240 

Procter,  Bryan  Waller    .      .      .   248 


VI 


POKTKAITS. 


Faces 


Rogers,  Samuel 
Rowe,  Nicholas  .  .  . 
Scott,  Sir  Waltoi-  ... 
Shakspere,  William  .  . 
Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe  . 
Slieridan,  Richard  Brinsley 
Sidney,  riiilip  .... 
Smitli,  Sydney  .     .     .     .     , 


Southey,  Robert 


page 
254 

258 
262 
2(50 
270 

272 
276 
278 
284 


Faces  page 

Spenser,  Edmund 286 

Steele,  Richard 288 

Suckling,  John 294 

Swift,   Dean 298 

Taylor,  John 300 

Thackeray,  Wm.  -Makepeace    .  306 

Wesley,  John 318 

Wither,  George 320 

Wordsworth,  William      o     .     .  322 


INTRODUCTION. 


T  ONDOX  has  no  associations  so  interesting  as  those  con- 
"*-^  nected  with  its  literary  men.  To  the  cultivated  reader 
the  Temple  owes  its  greatest  charm  to  the  fact  that  it  was 
the  birthplace  of  Lamb,  the  home  of  Fielding,  and  that  it 
contains  Goldsmith's  grave.  xAddison  and  Steele  have  hal- 
lowed the  now  unholy  precincts  of  Charter  House  Square 
and  Covent  Garden ;  the  shade  of  Chatterton  still  haunts 
Shoe  Lane ;  Fleet  Street,  to  this  day,  echoes  with  the  pon- 
derous tread  of  Dr.  Johnson;  and  the  modest  dwelling  that 
was  once  Will's  Coffee  House  is  of  far  more  interest  now 
than  all  that  is  left  of  the  royal  palaces  of  Whitehall  and 
St.  James. 

The  Society  of  Arts,  in  marking  with  its  tablets  certain  of 
the  historic  houses  of  London,  is  deserving  of  much  praise ; 
but  only  a  few  of  the  many  famous  old  buildings  which 
still  exist  in  the  metropolis  are  thus  distinguished,  and  no 
definite  clew  to  their  position  is  given,  even  in  the  best 
of  guide-books.  When  the  houses  themselves  have  disap- 
peared, the  ordinary  searcher,  in  nearly  all  instances,  has 
the  ntmost  difficulty  in  finding  anything  more  than  a  faint 
indication  of  their  site.  To  remedy  this  in  some  measure  is 
what  is  designed  in  the  following  pages.  They  are  intended 
simply  as  a  guide  to  a  side  of  London  which  has  never  before 
received  particular  attention.  The  places  of  literary  asso- 
ciation in  the  metropolis  and  in  the  suburbs  are  noted  with 


viil  INTKODLCTIOX. 

more  or  less  accuracy  in  the  ordinary  liand-books  and  in 
the  thousands  of  volumes  —  historical,  traditional,  local, 
and  anecdotal  —  that  have  been  published  about  the  Great 
City  ;  but  in  no  single  work  has  any  attempt  hitherto  been 
made  to  follow  the  literary  worthies  of  England  to  the  spots 
they  have  known  and  loved  in  London  as  they  have  joui'neyed 
from  the  cradle  to  the  grave. 

The  chief  aims  of  this  book  have  been  completeness  and 
exactness.  It  contains  not  only  a  great  deal  of  matter  which 
has  never  been  printed  before,  but  it  verifies  the  statements 
and  corrects  the  mistakes  of  the  works  that  have  gone  before 
it.  Innumerable  volumes  upon  London  have  been  consulted, 
from  Stow  and  Strype  to  the  younger  Dickens ;  early  insur- 
ance surve^^s,  containing  the  number  and  position  of  every 
house  in  London  since  houses  were  first  numbered,  in  1767, 
have  been  compared  with  similar  surveys  of  the  present,  by 
means  of  tracings  and  by  actual  measurements  of  the  streets 
themselves  ;  the  first  maps  of  London  have  been  examined 
and  compared  in  like  manner  with  later  and  contemporary 
plans ;  directories  for  the  last  century  and  a  half  have  been 
studied  carefully  ;  and  it  has  been  possible  by  these  means 
to  discover  and  note  the  exact  sites  of  many  interesting  build- 
ings, the  position  of  which  has  hitherto  been  merely  a  matter 
of  conjecture  or  entirely  unknown. 

The  history  of  the  London  Directory  has  yet  to  be  written. 
The  oldest  volume  of  that  kind  in  the  Library  of  the  British 
Museum  was  "  Published  and  sold  by  Henry  Kent  in  Finch 
Lane,  near  the  Royal  Exchange,"  in  1736.  It  is  a  small 
pamphlet  of  fifty  pages,  and  the  original  price  was  six|)ence. 
It  is  prefaced  by  the  following  remarks  :  "  The  Difficulty 
which  People  are  continually  under,  who  have  Business  to 
transact,  for  Want  of  knowing  where  to  find  One  Another, 
makes  such  a  little  Piece  as  this  very  Useful,  by  saving  a 
great  deal  of  Trouble,  Expense,  and  Loss  of  Time,  in  Dispatch 


INTRODLCTIUX.  IX 

of  Affairs,  especially  to  Merchants,  Bankers  and  others  who 
deal  in  Notes  and  Bills  of  Exchange."  ^ 

This  directory  was  published  at  irregular  intervals  until 
1827.  In  the  earlier  volumes,  as  the  houses  were  not  num- 
bered, only  the  business  streets  and  the  names  of  residents 
who  were  business  men  were  inserted.  It  was  followed  in 
1772  by  a  rival  Directory  "  Printed  for  T.  Lowndes,  No.  77 
Fleet  Street,"  the  price  of  which  was  one  shilling,  and 
which  contained,  as  the  advertisement  stated,  "  An  Alpha- 
betical List  of  the  Names  and  Places  of  Abode  of  the 
Merchants  and  Principal  Traders  of  the  City  of  London, 
and  Westminster,  and  the  Borough  of  Southwark  and  their 
Environs,  with  the  number  of  each  House."  This  series 
lived  only  until  1799.  The  numbers  of  the  houses  were 
given  first  in  Kent's   Directory  for  1768. 

The  official  Post  Office  Directory  was  first  published  when 
Lowndes  retired  in  1799  ;  and  the  separate  Trades  and  Court 
departments  first  appeared  in  1841.  The  initial  number  of 
"  Boyle's  Fashionable  Court  and  Country  Guide  "  is  dated 
1796,  and  it  is  continued  to  the  present  day.  It  contained 
from  the  outset  an  irregular  court  and  street  directory,  both 
of  the  City  and  West  ends  of  the  town  ;  but  it  was  naturally 
less  complete  and  thorough  than  the  official  Post  Office 
Directory  of  the  present  day. 

The  difficulties  met  with  in  the  preparation  of  the  fol- 
lowing pages  have  been  many  and  great.  Old  houses  have 
disappeared,  streets  have  been  renamed  and  renumbered, 
and  in  many  instances  entire  streets  have  been  swept  away 
in  the  dreadful  march  of  improvement.  It  is  easier  to-day 
to  discover  the  house  of  a  man  who  died  two  hundred  years 
ago,  before  streets  were  numbered  at  all,  than  to  identify 
the  houses  of  men  who  have  died  within  a  few  years,  and 
since  the  mania  for  changing  the  names  and  numbers  of 
streets  began.     Drvden,  for  instance,  was  living  in  1686  in  a 


X  iNriJonrcrioN. 

house  '  oil  the  north  side  of  Long  Acre,  over  agahist  Rose 
Street,'  and  easily  traced  now  by  the  Dryden  Press,  which 
stands  upon  its  site ;  while  the  house  in  which  Carlyle  lived 
for  nearly  half  a  century,  and  in  which  he  died  in  1881,  when 
it  was  No.  5  Great  Cheyne  Kow,  Chelsea,  was  in  1885  No. 
24  Great  Cheyne  Row,  with  nothing  to  distinguish  it  from 
the  new  No.  5  on  the  o{)posite  side  of  the  way. 

The  confusion  caused  by  this  renumbering  and  renaiuiiig 
can  hardly  be  expressed  in  words,  nor  does  there  seem  to  the 
ordinary  observer  to  be  any  good  reason  for  these  changes. 
Oxford  Street,  which  Pennant  described  in  1790  as  the 
longest  street  in  Europe,  was  considered  not  long  enough, 
and  has  been  extended  by  the  absorption  of  New  Oxford 
Street,  and  renumbered ;  while  the  New  Road,  an  equally 
important  thoroughfare  running  nearly  parallel  with  it  from 
City  Road  to  Edgeware  Road,  was  deemed  too  long,  and  has 
been  divided  into  Pentonville  Road,  Euston  Road,  and  Mary- 
leboue  Road,  and  of  course  renumbered.  The  following 
note,  quoted  in  full  from  the  London  Post  Office  Directory 
for  1882,  will  give  some  faint  idea  of  the  confusion  of 
numbers  :  — 

That  part  of  Oxford  Street  which  lies  to  the  west  of  Tottenham 
Court  Road  has  been  renumbered,  the  numbers  beuinninfr  at 
Tottenham  Court  Road,  and  ending  at  the  Marble  Arch, — the 
even  numbers  being  on  the  north,  and  the  odd  numbers  on  the 
south  side  ;  but  the  numbers  of  that  part  of  the  street  which  lies 
to  the  east  of  Tottenham  Court  Road  not  having  been  altered, 
many  of  the  numbers  in  that  part  of  tlie  street  are  duplicates  of 
new  numbers  which  are  near  tlie  Marble  Arch  :  these  dupHcate 
numbers  are  distinguished  here  by  being  printed  in  black  type, 
thus  (468).  To  avoid  confusion,  care  should  be  taken,  in  ad- 
dressing letters,  to  add  the  correct  postal  initials  ;  and  it  may  be 
desirable  for  the  duplicated  numbers  to  add  either  'near  Marble 
Arch,'  or  '  near  Holborn,'  as  the  case  may  be,  as  part  of  the 
address. 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

I  rest  this  portion  of  uiy  case  here. 

By  some  strange  fatality  the  most  interesting  of  the  old 
buildings  in  London  have  been  removed  or — what  is  often 
worse  —  restored,  while  adjacent  old  buildings  about  which 
no  tradition  or  association  lingers  are  left  intact.  Drayton's 
house,  in  Fleet  Street,  has  been  altered  and  changed  beyond 
recognition,  but  the  two  houses  next  door  to  it  remain  as  in 
Drayton's  day.  The  Bell  Inn  at  Edmonton  —  Gilpin's  Bell, 
and  a.  favorite  haunt  of  Charles  Lamb  during  the  last  years 
of  his  life  —  has  been  taken  down,  in  favor  of  a  dtdl,  common- 
place public  house,  about  which  there  is  nothing  attractive 
excejjt  its  name.  The  Bell ;  while  on  all  sides  of  it  there 
exist,  from  the  days  of  Lamb  and  Cowper  and  long  before, 
and  in  all  their  old-fashioned  picturesque  beauty,  the  con- 
temporary inns  which  neither  of  them  chanced  to  make 
immortal. 

It  will  be  observed  that  no  attempt  has  been  made  here 
to  write  a  text-book  or  a  biographical  dictionary.  Nothing 
has  been  preserved  in  these  pages  concerning  the  members 
of  the  guild  of  literature  from  Addison  to  Young  excepting 
what  may  relate  to  their  career  in  London ;  and  the  book 
appeals  only  to  those  who  love  and  are  f\\miliar  with  Pepys 
and  Johnson  and  Thackeray,  and  who  wish  to  follow  them 
to  their  homes  and  their  haunts  in  the  metropolis,  —  not  to 
those  who  need  to  be  told  who  Pepys  and  Johnson  and 
Thackeray  were,  and  what  they  have  done.  It  will  be 
observed,  too,  that  the  rank  of  these  men  in  the  world 
of  letters  is  not  to  be  inferred  from  the  amount  of  space 
{levoted  to  them  here.  Wordsworth  and  Herrick  have  as- 
signed to  them  but  a  few  lines,  simply  because  they  were  not 
poets  of  brick  and  mortar,  and  knew  almost  nothing  of  town 
life  ;  while  whole  pages  are  sometimes  bestowed  upon  the 
half- forgotten  authors  of  one  immortal  song,  who  spent  all 
their  davs  in  London,  and  loved  it  well.     A  few  writers  will 


XI 1  INrilODUCTlON. 

be  missed,  who,  although  Britisli,  —  as  Burns,  Lever,  and  the 
Kiiigsleys, — have  little  or  no  association  with  London- 
wliile  others  have  not  heeu  included,  because,  like  Blake, 
they  may  be  better  known  ;is  jjainters,  or,  like  Garrick,  more 
famous  as  actors  than  as  men  of  letters.  These  will  find 
place,  perhaps,  in  succeeding  volumes,  to  be  devoted  to  the 
artistic  and  dramatic  memories  of  the  metropolis.  Living 
writers,  of  course,  ai-e  not  mentioned  at  all. 

For  the  convenience  of  those  interested  in  any  particular 
writer,  it  has  been  thought  best  to  arrange  the  work  in  tlie 
alphabetical  sequence  of  the  authors'  names,  and  not  topo- 
graphically or  chronologically,  as  is  the  ordinary  plan  ;  and 
to  add  to  the  interest,  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  let  the 
difterent  subjects  of  the  work  speak  for  themselves,  or  to  let 
their  contemporaries  speak  for  them,  whei-ever  it  is  possible 
so  to  do,  giving  in  every  instance  in  the  margin  the  authorities 
quoted. 

It  is  hoped  that  the  full  indices,  local  as  well  as  personal, 
will  enable  the  general  reader  to  find,  in  any  particidar  part 
of  the  town,  what  appeals  to  him  most,  and  show  him  what 
is  within  his  reach,  no  matter  where  he  mav  be.  Bv  means 
of  these,  for  exam])le,  it  will  be  very  easy,  in  walking  with 
Johnson  and  Boswell  from  the  club  in  Gerard  Street  through 
Long  Acre  and  Bow  Street,  to  Tom  Davies's  shop  in  Russell 
Street,  Covent  Garden,  to  call  by  the  way  on  Dryden,  Wychei- 
ley,  Waller,  Fielding,  Charles  Lamb,  and  Evelyn  ;  to  stop  for 
refreshments  at  Will's  or  Button's  or  Tom's  with  Steele, 
Addison,  Colley  Cibber,  Pepys,  Davenant,  and  Pope ;  and 
going  a  step  or  two  further  to  utter  a  silent  prayer  perha])s 
in  the  Church  of  St.  Paul,  Covent  Garden,  for  the  repose  of 
the  souls  of  Butler,  Wycherley,  Mrs.  Centlivre,  and  'Peter 
Pindar,'  who  sleep  within  its  gates. 

L.  H. 

.April  7.  1885. 


LITERARY  LANDMARKS  OF  LONDON. 


JOSEPH   ADDISON. 

1672-1719. 

ALTHOUGH  Addison  wrote  his  name  strongly  and 
clearly  in  the  literature  and  politics  of  England  in 
the  eighteenth  century,  and  although  he  was  closely  iden- 
tified with  London,  the  traces  he  has  left  of  his  actual 
presence  in  the  metropolis  are  few  and  slight. 

Concerning  his  London  homes,  until  his  marriage  in 
1716  and  settlement  in  Holland  House,  his  biographers  are 
strangely  silent,  and  but  little  is  to  be  gathered  from  the 
gossip  of  his  contemporaries.  It  is  only  known  that  he  lived 
in  the  Haymarket,  in  Kensington  Scpiare,  in  St.  James's 
Place,  St.  James's  Street,  at  Fulham,  and  at  Chelsea. 

His  earliest  associations  with  London  were  witli  the 
Charter  House  School,  to  which,  after  studying  under  his 
father's  eye  at  Lichfield  and  Salisbury,  he  was  sent  as  a 
private  pupil.  Here  he  was  carefully  drilled  in  the  classics, 
and  here  too  he  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  Steele,  with 
whom  in  after  years  he  was  so  intimately  connected.  The 
Charter  House  School  stood,  through  many  generations  of 
boys,  in  Charter  House  Square,  Smithfield.  In  1872  those 
portions  of  the  grounds  which  belonged  to  the  school  itself 
were  transferred  to  the  Merchant  Taylors'  Company,  by 
whom  new  school-buildings  were  erected ;  but  the  Charter 

1 


2  JOSEPH    ADDISON.  [1*372-1719. 

House  proper  remained  in  1885,  as  in  Addison's  day,  with 
its  chapel  and  cloisters,  and  its  Pensioner's  TFall,  the  home 
of  the  Poor  Brethren,  so  familiar  to  all  readers  of  '  The 
Newcomes.' 

Addison  left  the  Charter  House  in  1G87  to  enter  Queen's 
College,  Oxford  ;  but  he  returned  to  London  in  1 703,  and 
found  lodgings  in  the  Hay  market. 

Pope  was  one  day  taking  his  usual  walk  with  Harte  in  the 

,  Haymarket,  when  he  desired  him  to  enter  a  little  shop, 

Literary        where,   going   up   three  pairs   of  stairs   into    a  small 

room,  Pope  said,   '  In   this  garret  Addison  wrote  his 

"  Campaign." ' 

There  is,  unfortunately,  no  hint  given  by  Pope,  or  by  any 
of  Addison's  biographers,  as  to  the  position  or  number  of 
Addison's  Haymarket  home.^  His  mode  of  life  at  this  period, 
however,  is  thus  described  :  — 

We  find  it  to  have  been  the  custom  of  Addison  to  be  scarcely 
ever  unprovided  of  some  retreat  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 

of  London,  where  he  might  employ  his  evenings  and 
Life'of  Addi-  ^^^  leisure  hours  in  study  and  the  laljor  of  composition  ; 
son,  chap.      ^  satisfactory  refutation  of  the  injurious  account  given 

by  Spence,  on  the  authority  of  Pope,  which  repre- 
sents him  as  habitually  passing  his  evenings,  often  far  into  the 
night,  in  coffee-houses  and 'taverns  with  a  few  convivial  and  ob- 
serpiious  companions.  Sandy  End,  a  hamlet  of  Fulham,  was  at 
this  time  [1707]  his  country  retirement.  He  appears  to  have 
occupied  apartments  in  a  lodging  or  boarding  house  established 
at  this  place,  whence  several  of  the  published  letters  of  Steele 
are  dated,  written  at  times  when  he  seems  to  have  been  the 
guest  of  Addison. 

When  the  time  came  to  leave,  Esmond  marched 
Esmomii'^  *  homeward  to  his  lodgings,  and  met  Mr.  Addison  on  the 
hook  111.         road,  walking  to  a  cottage  whicli  he  had  at  Fulham, 

the  moon  shining  on  his  handsome  serene  face.  '  AYhat 
cheer,    brother?'    says    Addison,   laughing.      'I   tliovight  it  was 


JOSEPH    ADDISON. 


1672-1719.]  JOSEPH  ADDISON.  3 

a  footpad  advancing  in  the  dark,  and  behold,  it  is  an  old  friend. 
We  may  shake  hands.  Colonel,  in  the  dark  ;  't  is  better  than  ficrht- 
ing  by  daylight.  Why  should  we  quarrel  because  I  am  a  Whig 
and  thou  art  a  Tory  1  Turn  thy  steps  and  walk  with  me  to  Ful- 
ham,  where  there  is  a  nightingale  still  singing  in  the  garden,  and 
a  cool  bottle  in  a  cave  I  know  of.  You  shall  drink  to  the  Pre- 
tender, if  you  like.     I  will  drink  my  liquor  in  my  own  way.' 

Letters  of  Addisou  to  the  young  Eurl  of  Warwick,  dated 
simply  at  Chelsea,  are  said  to  have  been  written  —  but  this 
is  merely  traditional  —  iu  Sandford  Manor  House,  at  one 
time  the  residence  of  Nell  Gwynne.  This  house,  standing 
in  188.5,  was  a  little  south  of  King's  Road,  towards  the 
Thames. 

That  Addison  was  living  in  the  village  of  Kensington  in 
1712,  when  Swift  was  his  neighbor,  there  seems  to  be  no 
question,  although  the  site  or  the  character  of  his  house 
there  is  not  now  known. 

The  parish  books  do  not  give  the  name  of  Addison  in  either 
row  (liouses  were  not  numbered  in  London  till  1764),  so  that  it 
is  impossible  to  identify  any  particular  dwelling  now 
Avith  tlie  house  of  one  of  the  kindest  benefactors  that  Kensiiigtou 
society  ever  had.     Still,  it  is  pleasing  to  picture  some-    '^i"'"'^- 
where  in   the   old   square   [Kensington   Square]   one   of  whom 
Thackeray,  a  hundred  and  forty  years  after,  thus  wrote  from  the 
same  place  :  'AVhen  this  man  looks  from  the  world,  whose  weak- 
nesses he  describes  so  benevolently,  up  to  Heaven,  which  shines 
on  us  all,  I  can  hardly  fancy  a  human  face  lighted  up  with  more 
serene  rapture,  or  a  human  intellect  thrilling  with  a  purer  love 
and  adoration,  than  that  of  Joseph  Addison.' 

Addison  was  married,  in  171(3,  to  the  dowager  Countess 
of  Warwick ;  and  their  courtship  Johnson  likens  to  that  of 
Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  with  his  disdainful  widow.  They 
do  not  seem  to  have  been  very  happy  in  their  iniion,  which 
began  and  ended  in  tlio  famous  Holland  House,  Kensington 
Road,  Kensington,   one  of  the  most  interesting  spots  in  all 


4  JOSEPH   ADDISON.  [1672-1719. 

England  for  the  sake  of  its  literary  associations,  and  still 
standing  in  its  noble  gronnds,  in  1885.'* 

Aildi.son,  according  to  the  traditions  of  Holland  House,  used, 

when  composing,  to  Avalk  up  and  down  the  long  galleiy 

Moo'ii's  Dia-  there,  with  a  bottle  of  wine  at  each  end  of  it,  which 

is'is''''^  ^^'     ^^^  finished   during   the  operation.      There   is  a  little 

white  house,  too,  near  the  turnpike,  to  wduch  he  used 

to  retire  when  the  Countess  was  particularly  troublesome. 

This  '  little  white  house '  was  the  White  Horse  Inn, 
which  stood  on  the  corner  of  what  have  since  been  called 
Holland  Lane  and  Kensington  Road.  It  has  disappeared ; 
but  on  its  site  was  built,  in  18G6,  a  public  house  called  the 
Holland  ^rnis  Inn,  where  were  preserved,  in  1885,  the  fine 
old  mahogany  fittings  of  the  original  tavern,  —  benches  upon 
which  Addison  and  Steele  have  often  sat,  and  tables  which 
have  held  their  bottles  and  their  elbows,  and  heard  their 
familiar  talk. 

It  seems  to  have  been  in  HoUand  House  (for  he  died  shortly 
afterwards)  that  Addison  was  visited  by  Milton's  daughter,  when 
-  .  ,  he  recpiested  her  to  bring  him  some  evidences  of  her 

Hunt's  Old    birth.      The   moment   he   beheld   her  he  exclaimed  : 

Court  Suli-       ,  T,  r    1  1  1  n  • 

iirb,  chap.         Madam,  you  need    no  other  voucher  ;  your  lace  is  a 

''^'  sufficient   testimonial    whose   daughter  you  are.'      It 

must  have  been  very  pleasing   to  Addison  to  befriend    Milton's 

daughter,  for  he  had  been  the  first  to  popularize  the  great  poet 

by  his  critiques  on  '  Paradise  Lost,'  in  the  '  Spectator.' 

Addison  died  in  Holland  House,  June  17,  1719. 

The  end  of  this  iiseful  life  w'as  now  approaching.  Addison 
had  for  some  time  been  oppressed  by  shortness  of  breath,  wliich 

was  now  aggravated  by  a  dropsy,  and,  finding  his  dan- 
Livpsoftiie  P!cr  pressing,  he  prepared  to  die  conformably  to  his 
^J'''}?'  own    precepts   and    professions.   .   .    .   Lord   Warwick 

[his  step-son]  was  a  young  man  of  very  irregular  life, 
and  perhaps  of  loose  opinions.     Addison,  for  whom  he  did  not 


1672-1719.]  JOSEPH  ADDISON.  5 

want  respect,  bad  very  diligently  endeavored  to  reclaim  him,  but 
bis  arguments  and  expostulations  bad  no  effect.  One  experi- 
ment, bowever,  remained  to  be  tried.  When  be  found  bis  life 
near  its  end,  be  directed  the  young  Lord  to  be  called,  and  when 
be  desired,  with  great  tenderness,  to  bear  his  last  injunction,  told 
him  :  '  I  have  sent  for  you  that  you  may  see  how  a  Christian 
can  die.' 

This  account  of  Addison's  last  liours  is  not  entirely 
credited  by  later  writers.  Hunt,  in  his  '  Old  Court  Sub- 
urb'   (chap.  XV.),  says:  — 

The  story  originated  with  Young,  who  said  be  had  it  from 
Tickell,  adding  that  the  Earl  led  an  irregular  life  which  Addison 
wished  to  reclaim.  But,  according  to  Malone,  who  was  a  scrupu- 
lous inquirer,  there  is  no  evidence  of  the  Earl's  having  led  any 
such  life  ;  and  Walpole,  in  one  of  bis  letters  that  were  published 
not  long  ago,  startled  —  we  sboidd  rather  say  shocked  —  the 
world  by  telling  them  that  Addison  died  of  brandy.  It  is  ac- 
knowledged by  bis  best  friends  that  the  gentle  moralist,  whose 
bodily  temperament  was  a  sorry  one  as  his  mind  was  otherwise, 
bad  gradually  been  tempted  to  .stimulate  it  with  wine  till  he 
became  intemperate  in  the  indulgence.  It  is  impossible  to  say 
what  other  stimulants  might  not  gradually  have  crept  in  ;  nor  is 
it  impossible  that  during  the  patient's  last  hours  the  physician 
himself  might  have  ordered  them. 

It  was  but  fitting  that  Addison,  whose  description  of 
Westminster  Abbey  has  been  written  in  letters  that  cannot 
fade,  should  have  found  a  resting-place  within  its  walls,  to 
await  there,  as  he  expresses  it  ('Spectator,'  Xo.  26),  'that 
great  day  when  we  shall  all  of  us  be  contemporaries,  and 
make  our  appearance  together.'  He  was  buried  in  the 
north  aisle  of  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel ;  but  his  grave 
was  unmarked  for  nearly  a  century,  and  the  monument  to 
his  memory  in  the  Poets'  Corner  was  not  erected  until  1808. 

Addison's  body  lay  in  state  in  the  Jerusalem  Chamber,  and 
was  borne   thence   to   the  Abbey  at  dead  of  night.     The   choir 


6  JOSEPH   ADDISON.  [1672-1719. 

sang  a  funeral  hyinii.     Bishop  Atterbuiy,  one  of  those  Tories  who 
had  loved  and  honored  the  most  accomplished  of  the 
Essays,  Whigs,  met  the  corpse,  and  led  the  procession  by  torch- 

viii.  111.  li^lit  round  the  shiine  of  St.  Edward,  and  the  graves 

of  the  riantugenets,  to  the  Chapel  of  Henry  VII. 

Addison,  even  after  his  marriage,  as  has  been  seen,  was 
not  one  of  the  most  domestic  of  men ;  and  it  is  easier  now 
to  trace  him  to  his  clubs  and  his  taverns  than  to  his  own 
firesides, 

Addison's  chief  companions,  before  he  married  Lady  Warwick, 
„     '  ,         were  Steele,  Davenant,  etc.    He  used  to  breakfast  with 

Spence  s  '  '  _ 

Anecdotes :    one  or  other  of  them  at  his  lodgings  in  St.  James's 

Pope  see-  .  . 

tioii v.,  1737-  Place,  dine  at  taverns    with  them,  then  to  Button's, 

and  then  to  some  tavern  again  for  supper  in  the  even- 
ing ;  and  this  was  then  the  usual  round  of  his  life. 

Addison  studied  all  morning,  then  dined  at  a  tavern,  and 
went  afterwards  to  Button's.     Button  had  Ijeen  a  servant  in  the 

Countess  of  Warwick's  family,  who  [sie],  under  the 
Lives  of  the  patronage  of  Addison,  kept  a  coflTc'e-house  on  the  south 
discm  '  ^'^     ^^^^  '^f  Russell  Street,    about  two  doors  from  Covent 

Garden.  Here  it  was  that  the  wits  of  that  time  used 
to  assemble.  It  is  said  that  when  Addison  had  suffered  any 
vexation  from  the  Countess  he  withdrew  the  company  from  But- 
ton's house.  From  this  coffee-house  he  went  again  to  a  tavern, 
where  he  often  sat  late  and  drank  too  much  wine. 

It  is  reported  to  have  been  one  of  the  most  exquisite  entertain- 
ments to  the  choice  spirits,  in  the  beginning  of  this  [eighteenth] 

century,  to  get  Addison  and  Steele  together  in  com- 
noisseu"'  pany  for  the  evening.  Steele  entertained  them  till 
^"-  ^^-  he    was    tipsy,    when   the    same    wine   that   stupefied 

him  only  served  to  elevate  Addison,  who  took  up  the  ball  just  as 
Steele  dropped  it,  and  kept  it  up  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

Addison   frequented    also    the    Devil     Tavern     in     Fleet    , 
Street,  opposite  .St.    Dnnstan's  Church,    the  famous    Devil 
Tavern  of  Ben  Jonson  (q.  v.).     Child's   Bank,  No.   1   Fleet 
Street,  stands  upon  its  site. 


1672-1719.  J  JOSEPH   ADDISON.  7 

I  dined  to-day  [October  12]  with  Dr.  Garth  and  j\Ir.  Addison 
at   the  Devil  Tavern,   near  Temple  Bar ;  and  Garth  „ 
treated.     And  it  is  well  I  dine  every  day,  else  I  should  Journal  to 
be  longer  making  out  my  letters.  .  .  .  Mr.  Addison's  ' 

election  has  passed  easy  and  undisputed,  and  I  believe  if  he  had 
a  mind  to  be  chosen  King  he  would  not  be  refused. 

Addison  himself,  in  the  '  Spectator,'  tells  of  his  familiarity 
with  other  well-known  loungiug-places  of  his  day  :  — 

Sometimes  I  am  seen  thrusting  my  head  mto  a  round  of 
politicians  at  Will's,  and  listening  with  great  attention  to  the 
narratives  that  are  made  in  those  little  circular  audi-  spectator, 
ences.  Sometimes  I  smoke  a  pipe  at  Child's,  and  ^°-  ^• 
while  I  seem  attentive  to  nothing  but  the  '  Postman,'  overhear  the 
conversation  of  every  table  in  the  room.  I  appear  on  Sunday 
nights  at  the  St.  James's  Coffee  House,  and  sometimes  join  the 
committee  of  politics  in  the  inner  room  as  one  who  comes  there 
to  hear  and  improve.  My  fece  is  likewise  very  well  known  in 
the  Grecian,  the  Cocoa  Tree,  and  in  the  theatres. 

Will's  Coffee  House,  the  father  of  the  modern  Club, 
played  a  very  important  part  in  the  literature  of  the  seven- 
teenth and  eiohteenth  centuries.  It  was  on  the  northwest 
corner  of  Russell  Street  and  Bow  Street,  Covent  Garden,  and 
included  the  two  adjoining  houses,  one  in  each  sti'eet.  The 
old  house,  jSTo.  21  Russell  Street,  still  standing  iu  1885,  is 
no  doubt  one  of  the  original  buildino;s. 

Of  Child's,  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  there  is  no  trace  left 
to-day,  and  even  its  exact  site  is  unknown.  The  St.  James's 
Coffee  House  was  '  the  last  house  but  one  on  the  southwest 
corner  of  St.  James's  Street,  facing  Pall  ^laU,'  and  was  taken 
down  in  1806.  The  Grecian  stood  on  the  site  of  a  portion 
of  Eldon  Chambers,  Devereux  Court,  Strand,  between  Essex 
Court  and  New  Court  in  the  Temple.  It  is  marked  by  a 
tablet,  and  a  bust  of  Essex,  said  to  be  the  work  of  Cains 
Gabriel  Gibber  ;  and  the  Grecian  Chambers  at  its  back  per- 
petuate its  name.     The  Cocoa  Tree  Tavern  stood  at  Xo.  64 


8  JOSEPH  ADDISON.  [1672-1719. 

St.  James's  Street,  Piccadilly,  where  the  Cocoa  Tree  Club 
afterwards  was  built. 

Among  his  other  places  of  resort  were  Squire's  Coffee 
House  in  Fulwood's  Jients,  No.  34  High  Holborn,  where 
■were,  in  1885,  old  houses  dating  back  to  vVddison's  time; 
Serle's  Coffee  House,  on  the  corner  of  Serle  and  Portugal 
Streets,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  the  old-fashioned  door-posts  of 
which  were  preserved  in  the  stationer's  shop  on  its  site  in 
1885  ;  "  Dick's,"  No.  8  Fleet  Street,  a  modernized  French 
restaurant  in  1885,  the  windows  of  whose  square  room  at 
the  back  looked  on  the  trees  of  Hare  Court  in  the  Temple  ; 
and  the  Bull  and  Bush,  a  quaint  and  picturesque  old  coun- 
trified inn,  still  standing  in  1885,  at  the  bottom  of  North 
End  Road,  Hammersmith. 

Addison,  after  his  I'eturn  from  the  Continent  in  1704, 
joined  the  famous  Kit  Kat  Club,  which  was  '  composed  of 
thirty-nine  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  zealously  attached  to 
the  Protestant  succession  of  the  House  of  Hanover.'  It 
met  originally  in  Shire  Lane,  at  the  Cat  and  Fiddle,  which 
is  said  to  have  been  called  subsequently  the  Trumpet,  and 
as  such,  is  mentioned  by  Steele  in  the  '  Tatler.'  Still  later 
it  was  known  as  the  Duke  of  York's.  With  the  street  in  which 
it  stood,  it  has  long  since  disappeared.  Shire  Lane  itself, 
afterwards  called  Lower  Serle's  Place,  was  swept  out  of  ex- 
istence in  18G8,  with  some  thirty  other  disreputable  lanes 
and  alleys,  to  make  way  for  the  new  Law  Courts  in  Fleet 
Street  and  the  Strand.  It  was  on  the  east  side  of  the  pres- 
ent buildings,  and  had  several  outlets  into  the  Strand  at  or 
near  Temple  Bar.  Its  reputation  was  always  bad,  and  in 
the  reign  of  the  first  James  it  was  known  as  Rogue's  Lane." 

Spence's  y^^  ^  ^^  ^jg^rd   of  the   Kit   Kat   Club.  ...  The 

Anecdotes  : 

Pope.  master  of  the  house  where  the  club  met  was  Cliristo- 

pher  Kat.  .  .  .  Steele,    Aclflison,    Conrrreve,    Garth,   Vanbrn^h, 
etc.,  were  of  it.  .  .  .  Jacob  [Tonson]  had  his   own  and  all  their 


1672-1719.]  JOSEPH  ADDISON.  9 

pictures  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller.     Each  member  gave  his ;  and 
he  is  gouig  to  build  a  room  for  them  at  Barn-Elms. 

The  forty -two  pictiires  presented  by  the  members  of  this  club 
to  Tonsou  the  bookseller  were  removed  by  him  in  the  beginning 
of  the  last  century  to  Barn-Elms,  and  placed  near  his  smith's 
house,    in  a  handsome  room   lately  standing   on  the  Antiquarian 
OTOunds  of  Henry  Hoare,  Esq.     It  was  lined  with  red  London, 
cloth,   and  measured  forty  feet  in  length,  twenty  in 
width,  and  eighteen  in  height.     At  the  death  of  Mr.  Tonson,  in 
1736,  they  became  the  property  of  his  great-nephew,  who  died 
in  1767.     They  were  then  removed  to  Water  Oakley,  near  Wind- 
sor, and  afterwards  to  Mr.  Baker's,  in  Hertingfordbury. 

Barn-Elms  was  at  Barnes  on  the  Thames,  between  Putney 
and  Mortlake.  Copies  of  the  Kit  Kat  portrait  of  Addison 
are  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery,  South  Kensington,  and 
in  the  Bodleian  Library,  Oxford.  The  club  met  later  at  the 
Kino's  Arms  Tavern,  which  stood  on  the  north  side  of  Pall 
Mall,  near  the  Haymarket,  and  on  the  site  of  the  Opera 
Colonnade.  It  went  out  of  existence  as  a  club  early  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  Its  place  of  summer  resort  was  the 
Upper  Flask,  a  tavern  on  the  edge  of  Hampstead  Heath, 
which  has  been  for  many  years  a  private  house.  It  was  on 
the  corner  of  East  Heath  Road  in  1885  ;  its  old  entrance- 
hall  and  low-ceilinged  rooms  still  unchanged,  although  many 
additions  and  alterations  had  been  made.  And  in  its 
gardens,  nearly  opposite  the  Pool,  stood,  until  destroyed  in 
the  great  storm  of  Christmas,  1876,  the  famous  mulberry, 
tree,  showing  every  sign  of  its  gray  old  age,  under  which 
'  had  sat,  thnnigh  so  many  Arcadian  afternoons,  Addison, 
Pope,  Steele,  Congreve,  and  their  compeers,  when,  because 
of  their  presence, 

'  Hnniiistead,  towering  in  superior  sky, 
Did  with  Parnassus  in  honor  vie.' 


10  ]VLVRK  AKIiNSIDE.  [1721-1770. 


MARK   AKENSIDE. 

1721-1770. 

A  KENSIDE  came  to  London  in  1747,  when  he  took 
"^^  up  liis  residence  for  a  year  or  two  in  the  house  of 
his  warm  friend  and  patron,  Jeremiah  Dyson,  on  the  top 
of  Goldcr's  Hill,  near  North  End,  Hampstead.  In  1749  or 
1750,  through  Dyson's  generosity,  he  was  established  as 
a  pi'actising  physician  in  Bloomsbury  Square. 

Mr.  Dyson  parted  with  his  villa  at  North  End,  and    settled 

his  friend  fAkensidel  in  a  sensible  house  in  Blooms- 
Parks 
Hampstead    biuy   Square,  assigning  him,  with  unexampled  liber- 

),  p.^u  .  jjjjj.^r^    £  3QQ   j^  year,   which  enal^led   him   to   keep  a 
chariot  and  make  a  proper  appearance  in  the  world. 

Although  Bucke,  in  his  '  Life  of  Akenside,'  says  that  the 
remainder  of  his  life  was  passed  in  Bloomsbury  Squai'e, 
he  is  known  to  have  been  living  in  Craven  Street,  Strand, 
in  1759,  before  houses  were  numbered;  and  in  1762  he 
took  a  house  in  Old  Burlington  Street,  Bnrlington  Gardens, 
where,  in  1770,  he  died.  He  was  buried  in  an  unmarked 
grave  in  St.  James's  Church,  Piccadilly. 

Akenside,  in  1759,  was  appointed  physician  to  St. 
Thomas's  Hospital,  then  situated  in  Southwark,  on  the 
Borough  High  Street,  between  Thomas,  Denman,  and  Joiner 
Streets.  It  was  removed  in  1871.  Akenside's  fivorite  re- 
sorts were  Serle's  Coffee  House,  on  the  corner  of  Serle  and 
Portugal  Streets  (see  Addison,  p.  8)  ;  the  Grecian,  Devereux 
Court,  Strand  (see  Addison,  p.  7) ;  and  Tom's  Coffee  House, 
also  in  Devereux  Court,  which  no  longer  exists,  but  which  is 


1O60-61-16-26.]  FRANCIS   BACON.  11 

not  to  be  confoanded  with  the  Tom's  of  Russell  Street,  Co- 
vent  Garden.  He  was  also  frequently  to  be  found  at  the 
sign  of  The  Tally's  Head,  the  book-shop  of  Eobert  Dodsley, 
and  a  popular  meeting-place  of  men  of  letters  in  London  for 
several  generations.  It  stood  at  the  present  Iso.  51  Pall 
Mall,  '  the  house  with  the  archway  leading  into  King's 
Place.'  King's  Place,  running  from  King  Street  to  Pall 
Mall,  and  subsequently  called  Pall  Mall  Place  for  some  mys- 
terious reason,  was  arched  over,  in  1885,  by  an  old  house; 
but  no  book-shop  existed  there,  although  there  were  book- 
dealers  in  plenty  in  its  immediate  neighborhood. 


FKANCIS   BACON. 

1560-61-1626. 

T3AC0N  was  born  at  York  House,  on  the  Thames,  in 
"^^^  January,  1560-61,  and  christened  in  the  old  Church 
of  St.  Martin-in-the-Fields,  standing  on  the  site  of  the 
present  structure. 

He  returned  to  York  House  in  later  years,  and  lived 
there  for  a  time  as  Lord  Chancellor  of  Eugland,  when  it 
is  recorded  that  in  1620  he  kept  his  birthday  in  great 
splendor  and  magnificence,  Ben  Jonson  celebrating  the  occa- 
sion by  a  '  short  performance  in  verse.' 

Lord  Bacon,  being  in  Yorke  House  garden  looking  on  fishers 

throwing  their  nett,  asked  them  what  they  would  take  for  their 

draught.      They  answered    so    much.      His    lordship   \„|,i.ey'g 

would  offer  them  no  more,  but  so  much.     They  drew  J-ivKs  of 

Eminent 


Up  their  nett,  and  in  it  were  only  two  or  three  little  Persons ; 

fishes.     His  lordship  told  them  it  had  been  better  for 

them  to  have  taken  his  offer.     They  I'eplied  they  hoped  to  have 


12  FRANCIS   BACON.  [1560-61-1C26. 

liiiil  ;i  l)etter  draught.     But   Staid    hi.s   lordsliip  :   Uuiie  is  a  good 
breakfaai,  hut  an  ill  supper. 

York  House,  afterwards  tlic  property  of  the  Dukes  of 
Buckingham,  when  it  was  still  called  York  House,  stood 
on  the  site  of  George  Court,  and  of  Villiers,  Duke,  and 
Buckingham  Streets,  Strand  ;  its  later  tenants  perpetuating 
their  names  and  their  occupancy  of  the  mansion  in  that 
way.  Nothing  is  left  of  it  now  but  the  grand  old  water- 
gate  at  the  foot  of  Buckingham  Street,  the  work  of  Inigo 
Jones ;  although  portions  of  the  old  house,  with  the  original 
highly  decorated  ceilings,  were  preserved  until  18G3,  when 
the  erection  of  the  Charing  Cross  Railway  Station  and 
Hotel  wiped  them  completely  out  of  existence. 

In  1592  Bacon  entertained  Queen  Elizabeth  at  Twicken- 
ham Park,  Twickenham,  but  his  house  has  been  taken  down. 
The  estate  is  covered  with  villas ;  and  no  trace  of  it,  as  it 
existed  at  that  time,  remains. 

Bacon  was  married,  in  160G,  at  the  Chapel  of  St.  Maryle- 
bone,  described  by  Hepworth  Dixon,  in  his  '  Personal  His- 
tory of  Bacon,'  as  standing  then  '  two  miles  from  the  Strand, 
among  the  lanes  and  suburbs  wandering  towards  the  foot 
of  Hampstead  Hill.'  This  church  was  on  the  site  of  the 
parish  church  built  in  1741  near  Marylcbone  Road,  onMary- 
lebone  High  Street. 

Bacon  was  a  member  of  Gray's  Inn,  and  occupied  cham- 
bers there  for  many  years. 

Lord  Bacon,  whom  we  have  already  mentioned  as  a  member 
of  Gray's  Inn,  lived  at  No.  1  Coney  Court,  which  was  unfor- 
Jesse's  tunately  burnt  down  in  1678.     The  site  is  occupied 

luTc^ay's^'  ^y  tbe  present  [1868]  row  of  buildings  at  the  west  end 
Inn.  of  Gray's  Inn  Square,  adjoining  the  gardens  in  which 

the  great  philosopher  took  such  delight. 

He  is  said  to  have  designed  these  gardens,  and  to  have 
planted  the  old  catalpa-tree  still  standing  there  in  1885. 


FRANCIS    BACON. 


1560-61-1626.]  FRANCIS   BACON.  13 

Bacon  is  said  to  have  found  a  temporary  retreat  at 
Parson's  Green,  Fulham ;  but  the  character  of  the  Green 
has  greatly  changed  of  late  years  (see  Eichardson),  and 
neither  the  biographers  of  Bacon  nor  the  local  historians 
give  any  decided  information  as  to  the  positive  site  of  his 
Fulham  home. 

When  the  great  Lord    Bacon  fell  into  disgrace,  and  was  for- 
bidden to  appear  at  Court,  he  procured  a  license,  dated  September 
13,  1621,  to   retire  for  six  weeks  to  the  house  of  his  Brayley's 
friend,    Sir  John  Vaughan.  at   Parson's   Green,   who  London  and 

'  o         -  5  Middlesex, 

probably  resided   in   the   house  now  [1816]   occupied  "^'oi-  v. 
by  Mr.  Maxwell  as  a  boarding-school,  a  spacious  mansion,  built 
in  that  style  of  architectui-e  which   prevailed  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  reign  of  James  I. 

Bacon  died  at  the  house  of  tlie  Earl  of  Arundel,  at  Hish- 
gate,  Api'il  9,  1626,  and  was  buried  in  St.  Michael's  Church, 
within  the  precincts  of  old  Verulam. 

The  cause  of  his  lordship's  death  was  trying  an  experiment  as 
he  was  taking  aire  in  the  coach  of  Dr.  Witherborne,  a  Aubrey's 
Scotchman,  physitian  to  the  King.  Towards  Highgate  Lives, 
snow  lay  on  the  ground,  and  it  came  into  my  lord's  thoughts  why 
flesh  might  not  be  preserved  in  snow  as  in  salt.  They  were  re- 
solved they  would  try  the  experiment.  Presently  they  alighted 
out  of  the  coach,  and  went  into  a  poore  woman's  house  at  the 
bottom  of  Highgate  Hill,  and  bought  a  hen,  and  made  her  exen- 
terate,  and  then  stuffed  the  bodie  with  snow,  and  my  lord  did 
help  to  doe  it  himself.  The  snow  so  chilled  him  that  he  immedi- 
ately fell  so  ill  that  he  could  not  return  to  his  lodgings  (I  suppose 
then  at  Gray's  Inn),  but  went  to  the  Earl  of  Arundel's  house  at 
Highgate,  where  they  put  him  into  a  good  bed,  warmed  with  a 
panne  ;  but  it  was  a  dampe  bed  that  had  not  been  layn  in  for 
about  a  year  before,  which  gave  him  such  a  colde  that  in  two 
or  three  days  he  died  of  suffocation. 

Arundel  House  stood  on  the  slope  of  Highgate  Hill.  It 
is  known  to  have  been  occupied  as  a  school  in  its  later  days, 


14  JOANNA   BAILLIE.  [1762-1851. 

iiud  according  to  Thorne,  in  his  '  lI;ind-Book  of  the  Envi- 
rons of  London,'  it  was  pulled  down  in  1825]  but  neither 
Thome  nor  any  other  writers  upon  the  subject  have  been 
able  to  discover  its  exact  position. 

Eliza  No  account  of  the  site  of  Lord  Arundel's  house  at 

iiaiii)W(Hi^  Highgate  has  been  preserved.  To  clear  up  this  point, 
bpois  of  ]\jj.,  Montague  made  many  inquiries,  though  to  no  pur- 
liondoii,  pose.  We  have  likewise  sought  in  vain.  It  is  sup- 
posed, however,  to  have  been  the  most  considerable 
house  in  the  parish. 


JOANNA   BAILLIE. 

1762-1851. 

'T^HE  Baillies  came  to  London  in  1791,  wlien  they  lived 
in  Great  Windmill  Street,  Piccadilly,  in  the  house  of 
their  brother,  Dr.  Matthew  Baillie,  "who  took  possession 
of  it  after  the  death  of  their  uncle,  the  famous  Dr.  Hunter. 
It  was  a  large,  square,  double  house,  on  the  east  side, 
standing  back  from  the  street,  and  was  numbered  IG  in 
1885.'^ 

In  1802  they  went  to  Red  Lion  Hill,  Hampstead,  and 
on  the  death  of  their  mother,  in  1806,  they  took  Bolton 
House,  at  Hampstead,  where  they  spent  the  remainder  of 
their  uneventful  lives,  and  where  at  the  end  of  half  a  cen- 
tury they  died.  Bolton  House,  still  standing  in  1885,  was 
a  quiet,  picturesque,  old-fashioned  mansion,  on  the  top  of 
Windmill  Hill,  built  of  red  brick  and  three  stories  in  height. 
It  was  the  centre  house  of  a  row  of  three  companion  build- 
ings, facing  the  Holly  Bush  Inn,  and  at  the  end  of  the  street 
culled  Hollv  Hill. 


JOANNA    BAILLIE. 


1762-1851.]  JOANNA   BAILLIE.  15 

Joanna    Baillie  lived   many  years   at    Hampstead,   in   Bolton 
House,  on  Windmill  Hill,  a  little  below  the  Clock  Honse.     Per- 
haps no  person  of  literary  distinction  ever  led  a  more 
secluded  and  unambitious  life  so  near  the  metropolis.  Howitt's 
In  the  society  of  her  sister,  Miss  Agnes  Baillie,  she  HeiKbts"of 
seemed    to    care  but  little  whether  the   world  forgot  London : 

-r>  ,     ,  .      ,.  n   ^  Hampstead. 

her  or  not.      But  oi  this  lorgetiulness  there  was  no 
danger.     Every  man  of  pre-eminent  genius  delighted  to  do  lier 
honor.     The  last  time  I  saw  the  poet  Rogers  he  was  returning 
from  a  call  on  Joanna  Baillie. 

Henry  Crabb  Robinson  thus  describes  a  visit  to  Joanna 
Baillie,  in  May,  1812  :  — 

We  [Wordsworth  and  Robinson]  met  Miss  Joanna  Baillie  and 
accompanied  her  home.  She  is  small  in  figure,  and  her  gait  is 
mean  and  shuffling,  but  her  manners  are  those  of  a  well-bred  lady. 
She  has  none  of  the  unpleasant  airs  too  common  to  literary 
ladies.  Her  conversation  is  sensible.  .  .  .  Wordsworth  said  of 
her  with  warmth  :  '  If  I  had  to  present  to  a  foreigner  any  one 
as  a  model  of  an  English  gentlewoman,  it  would  be  Joanna 
Baillie.' 

Joanna  Baillie  was  buried  in  an  altar  tomb  surrounded  by 
iron  railings,  in  Hampstead  Churchyard,  on  the  southeast 
side  of  the  church,  and  near  the  gate  and  the  churchyard 
wall.  Within  the  church  a  mural  tablet  has  been  erected 
to  her  memory.  Agnes  Baillie,  who  survived  her  sister  ten 
years,  lived  to  the  great  age  of  an  hundred  and  one.  She 
lies  in  the  same  grave. 


16  ANNA  LETITIA   BAKUAULI).  [17J3-1S25. 


ANNA  LETITIA   BAEBAULD. 

1743-1825. 

TN  1785  Mrs.  Barbauld  was  living  with  her  husbaud  at 
■*'  Well  Walk,  Hampstead ;  and  there  the  '  Correspondence 
of  Richardson '  was  edited  and  given  to  the  public.  Later, 
she  occupied  a  house  on  the  west  side  of  Eosslyn  Hill,  Hamp- 
stead, while  Mr.  Barbauld,  a  dissenting  minister,  preached 
in  the  Presbyterian  chajael  on  the  High  Street  there.  This 
chapel  was  taken  down  in  .1828.  His  next  charge  was  at 
Newington  Green ;  and  his  chapel  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Green,  built  in  1708,  enlarged  in  18G0,  was  still  standing  in 
1885.  Mrs.  Barbauld  died  in  Chnrch  Street,  Stoke  Newing- 
ton, in  1825,  and  was  buried  near  the  southern  entrance  of 
Stoke  Newington  Churchyard. 


EICHARD    BAXTEE. 

1615-1691. 

'npHE  domestic  life  of  Baxter  was  very  happy,  but  as  un- 
■*•  settled  as  the  times  in  which  he  lived.  He  was  fre- 
quently in  London,  and  had  many  temporary  homes  in  and 
about  the  city.  He  was  married,  September  10,  1662,  to 
Margai'et  Charlton,  —  '  A  Breviate '  of  whose  life  he  wrote, 
—  in  the  Church  of  St.  Bennet  Fink,  Broad  Street  Ward, 
near  Finch  Lane,  Cornhill.  This  church  was  destroyed  in 
the  Great  Fire,  four  years  later. 


RICHARD    BAXTER. 


1615-1691.]  RICHARD   BAXTER.  17 

For  some  years  after  the  Restoration  Baxter  lived  at  Acton, 
a  village  on  the  Uxbridge  Road,  five  miles  bejond  the  Marble 
At'ch,  in  a  house  no  longer  standing,  and  only  described  as 
being  '  near  the  Church.'  AVhile  here  he  was  arrested  and 
confined  for  a  short  time  in  the  King's  Bench  Prison,  then 
on  the  east  side  of  the  Borough  High  Street,  South wark, 
immediately  adjoining  the  Marshalsea  (see  Dickens).  This 
building  was  taken  down  towards  the  close  of  the  last  cen- 
tury ;  and  the  new  prison,  built  on  the  Borough  Road,  cor- 
ner of  Blackman  Street,  not  very  far  distant,  has  itself  since 
disappeared.     Of  his  life  here  he  wrote  :  — 

My  imprisonment  was  no  great  suffering  to  me,  for  I  had  an 
honest  jailer  who  showed  me  all  the  kindness  he  could.  I  had  a 
large  room  and  liberty  to  walk  in  a  fair  garden,  and  my  wife  was 
never  so  cheerful  a  companion  to  me  as  in  prison,  and  was  very 
much  against  my  seeking  to  be  relieved,  and  she  brought  me  so 
many  necessaries  that  we  kept  house  as  contentedly  and  comfort- 
ably as  at  home,  though  in  a  narrower  room  ;  and  I  had  a  sight  of 
more  friends  in  a  day  than  I  had  at  home  in  half  a  year. 

His  wife  died  in  his  '  most  pleasant  and  convenient 
house '  in  Southampton  Square,  now  Bloorasbury  Square, 
in  1681. 

He  preached  and  lectured  frequently  in  London  :  in  the 
old  church  of  St.  Dunstan-in-the-West,  Fleet  Street,  just 
inside  Temple  Bar ;  in  St.  Maiy  Magdalen's,  Milk  Street, 
Cheapside,  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  and  never  rebuilt ; 
in  Park  Street,  Southwai-k,  '  not  far  from  the  Brewery '  (of 
Barclay  and  Perkins) ;  in  Swallow  Street,  Piccadilly ;  in 
Pinner's  Hall,  and  in  St.  .James's  Market  Place. 

After  the  indulgence  in  1672,  he  returned  into  the  city,  and 
was  one  of  the  Tuesdav  lecturers  in  Pinner's  Hall,  and 
liad  a   iTiday  lecture   m  Fetter   Lane   [near   Neville  Biitannica: 
Court];   but  on   the   Lord's   days  he   for  some   time  ^^'''^*'- 
lireached  only  occasionally,  and  afterwards  more  statedly,  in  St. 


18  lUCIIAKJ)   JJAXTER.  [1615-1691. 

James's  Market  Place,  where,  in  Kwl,  he  liad  a  wonderful  deliv- 
ery, by  almost  a  miracle,  from  a  crack  in  the  lloor. 

Swallow  Street  ran  from  Piccadilly  in  a  direct  line  to 
Oxford  Street,  a  few  yards  west  of  what  has  since  been  called 
Oxford  Circus.  Its  site  is  the  present  liegent  Sti-eet,  built 
in  1813  to  connect  Carlton  House  with  Regent's  Park. 
Strype  described  it  as  '  being  very  long  .  .  .  but  of  no 
great  account  for  buildings  or  inhabitants.'  Swallow  Street, 
Piccadilly,  and  Swallow  Place,  Oxford  Street,  perpetuated  its 
name  as  late  as-  1885.  Of  course  no  traces  of  Baxter's 
chapels  remain,  either  here  or  in  the  neighborhood  of  Park 
Street,  the  enormous  works  of  the  great  brewing  firm  having 
replaced  whole  blocks  of  houses  in  Southwark  (see  Shak- 
spere). 

Pinner's  Hall  stood  behind  Pinner's  Court,  No.  54|  Old 
Broad  Street.  The  modern  Pinner's  Hall,  on  the  corner  of 
Old  Broad  and  Great  Winchester  Streets,  and  built  partly 
on  its  site,  was,  in  1885,  entirely  devoted  to  business 
purposes. 

St.  James's  Market,  very  much  curtailed,  stood,  in  1885, 
in  the  block  of  buildings  between  Jermyn  Street,  Charles 
Street,  the  present  Regent  Street,  and  the  Haymarket. 

Another  of  his  chapels  was  in  Oxendon  Street,  on  the  west 
side,  near  Coventry  Street.  It  backed  upon  the  gardens 
of  ]\Ir.  Secretary  Coventry,  who  was  not  in  sympathy  with 
Baxter,  or  his  form  of  worship,  and  who  drove  the  congrega- 
tion to  other  quarters  by  the  disturbances  he  caused  to  be 
made  under  the  chapel  windows.  This  building  stood  until 
within  a  few  years,  and  was  latterly  the  home  of  a  Scottish 
congregation. 

Baxter  spent  the  last  years  of  his  life  in  Charter  House 
Lane,  where  he  died  December  8,  1691.  He  was  buried, 
a  few  days  later,  in  Christ  Church,  Newgate  Street,  by  the 
side  of   his  wife,   '  next    to   the  old   altar,  or   table,    in   the 


FRANCIS    BKAUMONT. 


1585-1615-16.]  FRANCIS  BEAUMONT.  19 

chancel.'     On  his  tomb  was  inscribed   '  The  Saint's    Rest,' 
but  no  trace  of  it  is  now  to  be  found. 

Among  the  many  houses  demolished  in  1864,  for  the  purposes 
of  the    J\Ietropolitan    IVleat    Market  and    Metropolitan   Railway 
Extensions,  was  that  in  which  once  resided,  and  where 
died,  this  eminent  Non-conformist  minister  [Baxter],  Hi"to!y  of 
in  1691.      Tlie   dwelling  stood   for  many  years ;   and  ^p^g,j|j^^"' 
although  it  was  frequently  repaired,  the  larger  portion 
of  it  remained  until  1864,  on  the  eastern  side  of  Charter  House 
Lane,  near  to  the  Charter  House. 

Charter  House  Lane  was  the  eastern  end  of  the  present 
Charter  House  Street,  running  from  St.  John  Street  to  the 
Square. 


FRANCIS   BEAUMONT. 

1585-1615-16. 

"DEAUMONT  was  entered  a  member  of  the  Itiner  Temple 
-'-^  November  .3,  1600;  but  of  his  life  in  London  little  is 
known,  and  that  only  during  his  association  with  Fletcher 
(see  Fletcher).     Aubrey  says  :  — 

There  was  a  wonderful  consimilarity  of  phansy  between  him 
and  Mr.  Jo.  Fletcher,  which  caused  that  dearnesse  of  friendship 
between  them.  I  thinke  they  were  both  of  Queene's  Coll,  in 
Cambridge.  I  have  heard  Dr.  Jo.  Earle  say,  who  knew  them, 
that  his  maine  business  was  to  correct  the  overflowing  of  Mr. 
Fletcher's  witt.  They  lived  together  on  the  Bankside,  not 
far  from  the  Play  House.  .  .  .  [They  had]  the  same  cloaths 
and  cloaks  &tc.  between  them. 

The  Play  House  was  the  Globe  Theatre,  the  site  of  which 
is  now    covered   by  the    Brewery  of  Barclay  and   Perkins, 


20  ROBERT   BLOOMFIELD.  [1766-1823. 

near  Southwark  Bridge  Road  (see  Shakspere).  There  I'e- 
niained  in  1885  a  number  of  quaint,  plastered,  two-storied 
houses  on  the  Bankside,  which  were  old  enough  to  have 
harbored  these  twin  spirits. 

Tradition  says  that  IJcaumont  and  Fletcher  were  fre- 
quenters of  the  Mermaid  Tavern  in  Cheapside,  where  Jon- 
son  and  Shakspere  were  their  companions  (see  Jonson). 
Beaumont  was  buried,  according  to  the  Register  of  West- 
minster Abbey,  *  at  the  entrance  of  St.  Benedict's  Chapel, 
Mai-ch  9,  16 15-1 G.'  He  lies  near  Chaucer,  in  an  unmarked 
grave. 


EGBERT   BLOOMFIELD. 

1766-1823. 

"p  OBERT  BLOOMFIELD,  the  son  of  a  tailor,  came  to 
-*-^  Loudon  in  1781  to  learn  the  shoemaker's  trade.  He 
lodged  first,  in  a  very  humble  way,  at  No.  7  Pitcher's 
Court,  Great  Bell  Alley,  Coleman  Street,  City  ;  and  later 
in  Blue  Hart  Court,  in  the  same  alley.  The  character 
of  the  alley  and  its  courts  has  entirely  changed  during 
the  century  that  has  passed,  and  no  traces  of  any  of  his 
homes  here    are  left. 

After  his  marriage,  in  1790,  and  while  working  at  his 
cobbler's  bench  in  Great  Bell  Yard,  he  wrote  '  The  Fai-m- 
er's  Boy,' 

Cumiiri"--  I  ^^^"^  ""^  ^^^*  Upcott's  hand    the  poet's  shop  card, 

ham's  Hand-  jigatly   engraved  and   inscribed    'Bloomfield,    Ladies' 

Book  of  "^  o 

London  :        Shoe  Maker,  No.  14  Great  Bell  Yard,  Coleman  Street. 
Street  The  best  real  Spanish  Leather  at  reasonable  prices.' 

Great  Bell  Yard  was  opposite  Great  Bell  Alley ;  but  its 
name  has  been  changed  to  Telegraph  Street,  and  it  has  been 


t,f^%^ 


JAMES    BOSWELL. 


1740-1795.]  JAMES   BOSWELL.  21 

entirely  rebuilt.  No.  14  Telegraph  Street  was  in  1885  a 
very  new  and  glaring  white  glazed  tile  structure,  let  out  as 
offices,  and  called  'The  White  House.' 


JAMES    BOSWELL. 

1740-1795. 

/^F  Boswell's  life  in  London,  so  closely  identified  with 
^^  that  of  the  subject  of  his  famous  biography,  but  little 
is  to  be  said,  except  in  connection  with  Dr.  Johnson  (q.  v.). 

He  came  to  the  metropolis  in  1760,  and  first  met 
Johnson,  in  May,  1763,  at  the  shop  of  Tom  Davies,  No.  8 
Russell  Street,  Oovent  Garden  (see  Johnson).  In  July 
of  the  same  year  he  removed  from  Downing  Street  to 
'the  bottom  of  Lnier  Temple  Lane,'  where  Johnson  was  liv- 
ing, in  order  to  be  nearer  to  the  object  of  his  devotion.  His 
chambers  were  in  Farrar's  Building,  now  rebuilt ;  Johnson's, 
at  No.  1  Liner  Temple  Lane,  opposite,  are  also  rebuilt. 

In  1768  Boswell  was  in  Half  Moon  Street,  Piccadilly;  in 
1769,  in  Old  Bond  Street,  where  on  the  16th  of  October  he 
entertained  Johnson,  Reynolds,  Garrick,  and  Goldsmith  ;  and 
in  1772  he  was  lodging  in  Conduit  Street. 

He  died  at  No.  47  Great  Portland  Street,  Oxford  Street, 
in  1795.  This  street  has  been  extended,  renumbered  and 
rebuilt.  Boswell's  house  was  on  the  east  side,  the  seventh 
from  the  corner  of  Marylebone  Street,  towards  Langham 
Street,  then  Queen  Anne  Street. 

He  was  buried  at  his  family  seat  in  Scotland. 

Johnson  succeeded  in  electing  Boswell  a  member  of  The 
Club  (see  Goldsmith  and  Johnson). 
3 


22  CHARLOTTE   BRONTE.                  [181G-1855. 

i-iff  ami  I  vvas  well  pleased  to  meet  The  Club  for  the  first 

Lottcis  of  .                                                                . 

Lord  tune.  ...  1    was  amused,  m    tuvuuig  over   the   rec- 

vol.  ii.  <*J'''S  01    ilie  Club,  to  come  upon  puur  Lvizys  signa- 

cimp.  viu.  turc,  evideutly  ulUxed   wheu    he   was  too   drunk   to 

guide  his  pea. 


CHARLOTTE   BRONTE. 

1816-1855. 

T'X7HEN  Charlotte  and  Anne  Bronte  came  to  London 
^  *  in  1848,  without  male  escort,  they  stopped  at  the 
Chapter  Coffee  House,  No.  50  Paternoster  Row,  the  tavern 
frequented  by  their  father,  the  only  one'  of  which  they  had 
any  knowledge  in  the  metropolis,  and  to  which,  as  guests 
perhaps,  no  other  women  ever  went.  From  here  they 
sallied  out  to  see  their  publisher,  and  astonish  him  with 
their  identity  as  the  authors  of  'Jane  Eyre'  and  'The 
Tenant  of  Wildfell  Hall.'  Although  Charlotte  afterwards 
made  short  visits  to  London,  and  was  entertained  by  Rogei's 
and  other  noted  men,  she  gives  no  hint  in  her  letters  as  to 
where  she  lodged  in  later  years.  The  Chapter  Coffee  House 
was  in  existence  in  1885,  as  a  place  of  refreshment,  and 
but  little  changed  (see  Chatterton).^ 

Half-way  up,  on   the  left-hand  side  [of   Paternoster  Row],  is 

the  Chapter  Coffee  House.     T  visited  it  last  June  [1856].     It  was 

jj,.g  then  unoccupied.     It  had  the  appearance  of  a  dwelliiig- 

Gaskell's        house  two  hundred  years  old  or  so,  such  as  one  some- 
Life  of  .  .  .     -^  ' 
Charlotte       times  sees  in  ancient  country  towns  ;   the  ceilings  of 

vol.  il.'  the   small  rooms  were  low,  and  had  heavy  beams  run- 

chap,  ii.  ning  across  them  ;  the  walls  were  wainscoted,  breast- 
high  ;  the  stairs  were  shallow,  broad,  and  dark,  taking  up  nmch 
space   in   the   centre  of   the    house.      The    gray-haired    elderly 


CHARf.OTTE    BRONTE. 


1803-1873.]  BULWER  LYTTON.  23 

man  who  officiated  as  waiter  seems  to  have  been  toiiched  from 
the  very  tirst  by  the  quiet  simplicity  of  the  two  ladies,  and  he 
tried  to  make  them  feel  comfortable  and  at  home  in  the  long,  low, 
dingy  room  upstairs.  Tlie  high  narrow  windows  looked  into  the 
gloomy  Row  ;  the  sisters,  clinging  together  in  the  most  remote 
window-seat  (as  Mr.  Smith  tells  me  he  found  them  when  he 
came  that  Saturday  evening  to  take  them  to  the  Opera),  could  see 
nothing  of  motion  or  of  change  in  the  grim  dark  houses  opposite, 
so  near  and  close,  although  the  whole  breadth  of  the  Row  was 
))etween. 


BULWER  LYTTON 

1803-1873. 

BULWER  was  born  at  No.  31  Baker  Street,  a  three- 
storied  plain  brick  house,  standing  in  1885,  on  the 
east  side  and  next  to  the  corner  of  Dorset  Street ;  but 
in  his  youth  his  mother  lived  in  Montague  Square,  in  Not- 
tingham Place,  Marylebone,  and  at  No.  5  Upper  Seymour 
(now  Seymour)  Street,  Portmau  Square,  corner  of  Berkeley 
Mews,  and  numbered  10  in  1885.  His  first  school  was  at 
Fiilham,  where  he  remained  only  a  fortnight ;  his  second  at 
Sunbury,  in  Middlesex,  fifteen  miles  from  London,  where,  as 
he  says  in  his  Autobiography,  he  '  wasted  two  years.' 

In  1829  he  purchased  and  furnished  the  house  No.  36 
Hertford  Street,  Park  Lane,  to  which  he  took  his  wife  and 
infant  daughter.  It  was  unchanged  in  183)5.  In  1837  a 
letter  of  Bulwer's  was  dated  from  '  Tlie  Albany '  (see 
Byron,  p.  32). 

In  the  year  1839  James  Smith,  in  a  letter,  relates  :  '  I  dined 
yesterday  witli  E.  L.  Bulwer  at  his  new  residence  in  Charles 
Street,  Berkeley  Square,   a   splendidly  and   classically  fitted  up 


24  BULWEU   LYTTON.  [1803-1873. 

iiKUision.  One  of  the  clrawing-roouis  is  t^  facsimile  of  a  chamljer 
wliicli  our  host  visited  at  Pompeii.  Vases,  candelabra,  chaii's, 
tables  to  correspond.  He  lighted  a  perfumed  pastille  modelled 
from  Vesuvius.  As  soon  as  the  cone  of  the  mountain 
WitsJiiKi  began  to  blaze  I  found  myself  an  inhabitant  of  the 
vorii!'!'^*"'''  devoted  city.  .  .  .'  There  must  be  some  mistake  in 
James  {\^\^  record  :  the  house  in  Charles  Street  on  the  north 

JSmilli. 

side  IS   certamly  not  a  mansion,  but  a  dwelling  of 
moderate  size,  and  the  Running  Footniun  public  house. 

At  the  time  of  tlie  publication  of  '  Zanoni,'  in  1841,  Bul- 
wer  was  living  at  No.  1  Park  Lane,  in  a  house  since  rebuilt. 

Dr.  Charles  J.  B.  Williams,  in  liis  '  Recollections,'  pub- 
lished in  1884,  thus  speaks  of  Bulwer,  who  was  one  of  his 
patients  :  — 

When  I  visited  him  at  his  residence  in  Park  Lane,  even  on 
entrance  at  the  outer  door,  I  began  to  find  myself  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  perfume,  or  rather  of  perfume  mixed  with  tobacco  fume. 
On  proceeding  further  through  a  long  corridor  and  anteroom  the 
fume  waxed  stronger,  and  on  entrance  to  the  jiresence  chamber, 
on  a  divan  at  the  further  end,  through  a  haze  of  smoke  loomed  his 
lordship's  figure,  wrapt  in  an  Oriental  dressing-rolje,  with  a 
colored  fez,  and  half  reclined  upon  the  ottoman. 

In  1843  Bulwer  occupied  Craven  Cottage  at  Fulham, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  just  beyond  the  Bishop  of 
London's  Meadows.  It  stood  in  1885,  a  complete  but 
picturesque  ruin,  and  must  have  been,  in  its  day,  a  very 
remarkable  specimen  of  fantastic  architecture,  embracing 
the  Persian,  Gothic,  Moorish,  and  Egyptian  styles.  In  the 
library  Bulwer  is  said  to  have  written  more  than  one  of  his 
novels."  He  lived  later  in  life  at  No.  12  GrosveiTor  Square, 
on  the  north  side.  He  died  at  Torquay,  and  was  buried 
from  his  own  house,  Grosvenor  Square,  in  Westminster 
Abbey. 

His  favorite  clu-b  was  the  Athenteum,  on  the  southwest 
corner  of  Pall  Mall  and  AVaterloo  Place. 


162S-1688.] 


JOHN  BUNYAN.  25 


JOHN   BUNTAN. 

1628-1688. 

JOHN  BUNYAN  during  his  lifetime  had  few  associations 
with  London,  although  his  bones  lie  not  very  far  from 
those  of  the  author  of  '  Robinson  Crusoe '  in  the  Cemetery 
of  Bunhill  Fields.  He  made  occasional  professional  visits 
to  town,  however,  when  he  usually  preached  in  the  meeting- 
house in  Zoar  Street,  Southwark,  'near  the  sign  of  the 
Faulcon'  (see  Shakspere).  This  Zoar  Chapel  was  about 
one  hundred  feet  from  Gravel  Lane,  on  the  left  hand 
of  the  street  going  towards  that  lane.  It  was  used  as  a 
wheelwright's  shop  after  Bunyan's  time ;  and  when  it  was 
destroyed,  its  pulpit  was  carried  to  the  Methodist  Chapel  in 
Palace  Yard,  Laml)eth.  Bunyan  gathered  together  congre- 
gations of  tlu-ee  thousand  persons  on  Sundays,  and  twelve 
or  fifteen  hundred  on  week  days. 

There  is  a  tradition  that  he  had  lodgings  at  one  time 
on  London  Bridge,  but  there  seems  to  be  but  little  foun- 
dation for  the  story.  While  he  was  on  one  of  these  visits 
to  town,  in  1688,  he  died  at  the  house  of  his  friend 
Mr.  Strudwick,  a  grocer,  '  at  the  Sign  of  the  Star  on 
Snow  Hill.'  Robert  Philips,  in  his  'Life  of  Bunyan' 
(chap,  xlv.),  quotes,  from  a  manuscript  in  the  Library  of 
the  British  Museum,  the  following  account  of  his  death  :  — 

Taking  a  tedious  journey  in  a  slal)by,  rainy  day,  and  return- 
ing late  to  London,  he  was  entertained  by  one  Mr.  Strudwick,  a 
grocer  on  Snow  Hill,  with  all  the  kind  endearments  of  a  loving 
friend,  but  soon  found  himself  indisposed  with  a  kind  of  shaking, 
as  it  were  an  ague,  which  increasing  to  a  kind  of  fever,  he  took 


26  JOHN   BUNYAN,  [1628-1688. 

to  his  bed,  where,  growiiis,'  worse,  he  found  th;it  he  had  not  long 
to  hist  in  thi.s  workl,  and  iherelbre  prepared  hiniseli'  for  another, 
towards  which  lie  had  been  journeying  as  a  PiLGUiM  and  Stranger 
up(jn  earth  the  piiuie  ol  his  days. 

Snow  Hill,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  is  described  as 
having  been  a  circuitous  highway,  between  Holborn  Bridge 
and  Newgate,  very  narrow,  very  steep,  and  very  dangerous. 
Pink,  in  hia  '  History  of  Clerkenwell,'  believes  that  the  house 
in  which  Bunyan  died  must  have  been  removed  when  Skin- 
ner Street  was  formed,  in  1802,  if  it  existed  so  long  as  that. 
Skinner  Street  ran  by  the  south  side  of  St.  Sepulchre's 
Church,  but  was  itself  wiped  out  of  existence  when  tlie  Hol- 
born Viaduct  was  built.  It  would  appear,  therefore,  that 
the  Sign  of  the  Star  was  directly  under  the  eastern  pier  of 
the  Viaduct. 

An  altar  tomb  with  his  recumbent  ■  figure  upon  it,  on  the 
southern  side  of  Bunhill  Fields  Burial  Ground,  City  lioad, 
has  been  erected  to  Bunyan's  memory,  although  there  seems 
to  be  some  doubt  as  to  where  he  was  actually  buried  there. 

He  was  interred  at  first  in  the  back  part  of  that  ground 
known  as  '  Baptists'  Corner.'  The  tradition  (and  I  think  the 
Philips' Life  P'''^^^'''-^jilJty)  i^^  that  his  friend  Mr.  Strudwick  'had 
of  Bunyan,  given  commandment  concerning  his  bones'  that  they 
should  be  transferred  to  the  present  vault  whenever 
an  interment  took  place.  ...  It  does  not  say,  however,  that 
Bunyan  is  imdemeath  ;  and  I  know  persons  of  respectability 
who  affirm  that  he  is  not  there.  One  gentleman  assures  me 
that  the  coffin  was  shown  to  him  in  another  vault  in  quite 
another  quarter  of  the  ground.  .  .  .  On  the  other  hand,  the 
nephew  of  the  late  chaplain  of  Bunhill  Fields  informs  me  that 
his  uncle  invited  him  to  see  Bunyan's  coffin  in  Strudwick's  vault  ; 
and  the  son  of  the  late  Manager  of  the  Graves  always  understood 
his  father  to  mean,  when  he  said  '  that  Bunyan  was  not  buried 
there,'  that  it  was  not  his  original  grave. 


^^^^'^^'^K^X      ^' 


JOHN    BUNYAN, 


17;30-1797.I  EDMUND   BUKKE.  27 


EDMUND   BUPtKE. 

1730-1797. 

"DURKE  arrived  in  London  in  1750,  and  kept  terms 
regularly  in  the  Miildle  Temple.  Of  the  details  of  his 
early  life  and  struggles  he  rarely  spoke ;  and  almost  nothing 
is  known,  except  that  he  lived  at  'The  Pope's  Head,  over 
the  shop  of  Jacob  Robinson,  bookseller  and  publisher,  just 
within  the  Inner  Temple  Gateway,'  and  that  shortly  after 
his  marriage,  in  1756,  he  lived  in  Wimpole  Street,  Oxford 
Street. 

The  shop  of  Jacob  Robinson  has  now  disappeared,  al- 
though just  within  the  adjoining  Middle  Temple  Gateway 
Avas,  in  1885,  a  curious  old  house,  occupied  by  a  firm  of 
law  stationers,  who  were  doing  a  business  which  their  sign 
declared  to  have  been  *  established  two  hundred  years.' 
Robinson's  shop  was  on  the  west  side  of  the  Gateway,  next 
the  Rainbow  Tavern,  and  was  numbered  afterwards  16  Fleet 
Street. 

In  17G4  Burke  was  living  in  Queen  Anne  Street,  Oxford 
Street,  and  watching  the  debates  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons from  the  Strangers'  Gallery. 

In  1780  he  occupied  a  house  in  Westminster,  one  side  of 
which,  according  to  AValcott  in  his  '  Memorials  of  West- 
minster,' contained  'an  arch  of  the  eastern  wall  of  the  Old 
Gate  leading  into  Dean's  Yard.'  This  was  a  portion  of  the 
fiimous  Gate  House  in  which  were  confined  so  many  illus- 
trious state  prisoners.  It  stood  at  the  end  ^f  Tothill  Street, 
covering  considerable  space  on  each  side  of  that  thorough- 
fjire,   and    extending  from   Dean's  Yard  to  tlie  site  of   the 


28  SAMUEL  BUTLER.  [161-2-1G80. 

Westminster  Hospital.     Burke's  house  here  was  taken  down 
some  years  ago. 

In  1781  Burke  had  removed  to  the  more  fashionable 
neighborhood  of  St.  James's  Square. 

From  St.  James's  Square  we  pass  eastward  into  Charles  Street, 
Jesse's  Lon-  interesting  from  its  Laving  been  for  a  time  the  resi- 
8t"jainesV  ^•^^"'^^  ^^  Burke.  It  was  here  [in  1781]  that  Crabbe 
Square.  addressed  to  him  that  touching  letter,  and  was  admitted 

to  that  affectionate  interview  which  happily  so  revolutionized  the 
poet's  fortuue.s. 

In  1787  Burke  lived  at  No.  37  Gerard  Street,  Soho,  in  a 
house  marked  by  the  tablet  of  the  Society  of  Arts.  In  1793 
he  lodged  at  No.  6,  and  in  1794  at  No.  25,  Duke  Street,  St. 
James's,  in  houses  greatly  changed  since  his  day. 

He  died  at  Beaconsfield  in  Buckinghamshire. 

Burke's  earliest  flights  of  oratory  were  made  in  a  debating- 
club  held  in  the  Robin  Hood  Tavern,  Essex  Street,  Strand, 
of  which  no  trace  is  now  left.  He  was  in  after  years  a  mem- 
ber of  Brooks's  Club,  No.  60  St.  James's  Street,  and  an 
original  member  of  The  Club  (see  Johnson).  He  was  also 
frequently  to  be  found  at  The  Tully's  Head,  Dodsley's  Shop, 
No.  51  Pall  Mall  (see  Akenside). 


SAMUEL  BUTLER. 

lR12-ir)80. 

"D  UTLER'S  life  in  London  was  neither  happy  nor  prosper- 
"^"^  ous,  and  but  few  records  are  left  of  his  existence  here. 
He  is  believed  to  have  had  chambers  at  one  time  in  Gray's 
Inn,  although  he  was  not  a  member  of  that  Society,  His 
later  years  were  passed  in   poverty,  and  he  died   in  Rose 


"''^-^<?''  -'"'■ 


SAMDEL    BUTLER. 


1612-1680.]  SAMUEL  BUTLER.  29 

Street,  Covent  Garden,  which  runs  from  No.  2  Garrick  Street 
to  No.  11  Long  Acre  (see  Dry  den),  and  was  pronounced  by 
Aubrey  '  one  of  the  meanest  streets  in  that  part  of  the  city.' 
Butler  was  buried  in  tlie  yard  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  Covent 
Garden ;  but  contemporary  authorities  ditfer  as  to  the  exact 
position  of  his  grave. 

Butler  was  of  a  middk-  stature,  strong  sett,  high  coloured,  with 

a  heade  of  sorrell  hair,  a  good  fellowe  and  latterly  much  troubled 

with  the  gowt.  ...  He  dyed  of  a  consumption  Sep-  Aubrey's 

tember  25  (Amio  D™   1680  circiter)  and  was   buried  L'^^s: 

.  .        ,        ,         ,     Butler. 

27,  according  to  his  owne  appointment  in  the  church 

yard  of  Covent  Garden  in  the  north  part,  next  the  church,  at 
the  east  end.  His  feet  touch  the  wall.  His  grave  two  yards  dis- 
tant from  tlie  pillaster  of  the  dore  (by  his  desire)  6  foot  deepe. 
About  25  of  his  old  acquaintances,  at  his  funerall,  I,  myself, 
being  one. 

This  Samuel  Butler,  who  was  a  boon  and  witty  companion, 
especially  among  the  company  he  knew  well,  died  of  a  consump- 
tion, September  25th,  1680,  and  was,  according  to  his  Anthony 
desire,  buried  six  feet  deep  in  the  yard  belonging  to  '^Vfod's 

'  -  ...       At)ieiiie  Ox- 

the  Church  of  St.  Paul  in  Covent  Garden,  within  the  onienses, 

liberty  of  Westminster,  viz.  at  the  west  end  of  the  said 

yard,  on  the  north  side  and  under  the  wall  of  the  church,  and 

under  that  wall  which  parts  the  yard  from  the  common  highway. 

A  tablet  to  the  memory  of  Butler  was  placed  on  the  south 
side  of  the  church  *  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  parish '  in 
1786,  nine  yeai's  before  the  old  edifice  was  destroyed  by 
fire.  It  was  not  renewed  when  the  church  was  rebuilt ; 
and  the  clerk  of  the  vestrv-  in  188.5  had  no  knowledge  of  it, 
or  of  the  position  of  Butler's  grave.  The  churchyard  has 
l)een  levelled  and  covered  with  grass,  where  it  is  not  paved 
with  fragments  of  the  old  tombstones  it  used  to  contain, 
and  few  memorials  to  its  illustrious  dead  are  now  to  be 
found. 


oO  LOKl)   BYUON.  [1788-1824. 


LORD   BYIION. 

1788-1824. 

T3YR0N  was  born  at  No.  10*  Holies  Street,  Cavendish 
■"-^  Square,  in  a  house  since  numbered  24,  and  marked 
by  the  tablet  of  the  Society  of  Arts.  It  is  probably  un- 
changed.'" He  was  christened  in  St.  Marylebonc  Church,  on 
the  Marylebone  Road  near  the  High  Street,  when  he  was 
about  six  weeks  old ;  but  Mrs.  Byron  took  her  son  to  Scot- 
laud  in  his  infancy,  and  he  did  not  again  see  London  until 
1799,  when  he  was  brought  to  a  house  in  Sloane  Terrace, 
Sloano  Street,  while  an  eminent  surgeon  was  preparing 
an  instrument  for  the  support  of  his  ankle.  He  was  then 
sent  to  a  school  which  stood  near  the  Saline  Spring,  on 
Wells  Lane,  Sydenham,  but  has  now  disappeared. 

Moore,  in  his  '  Life  of  Byron,'  makes  few  allusions  to  his 
subject's  different  homes  in  Ijondon  and  elsewhere,  or  to 
his  home  life  ;  and  it  is  only  by  the  occasional  headings 
of  his  letters,  aud  by  their  indirect  personal  allusions,  that 
he  can  l)c  traced  to  his  vai'ious  lodgings  in  town.  In 
August,  1 806,  he  wrote  to  a  college  friend  from  No.  1 G  Pic- 
cadilly ;  but  he  does  not  appear  to  have  remained  then  long- 
in  London.  No.  IG  Piccadilly  was  on  the  site  of  Piccadilly 
Circus,  and  the  house  disappeared  when  Regent  Street  was 
formed,  a  few  years  later. 

In  the  winter  of  the  same  year  Byron  was  for  a  shoi"t 
time  at  Dorant's  Hotol,  which  stood  in  Jermyn  Street, 
nearly  opposite  Bury  Street.  Cox's  Hotel,  No.  6G  Jermyn 
Street,  was  its  direct  successor  in  1885;  and  here  it  was 
that  he  read  the  criticism  of  the  '  Edinburgh  Review '  upon 


17SS-1S21.J  LOUD   BYKON.  31 

■i 
his  '  Hours  of  Idleness,'  which  had  such  an  effect  upon  him 
that  the  friend  who  found  him  in  the  first  moments  of 
excitement,  fancied  he  had  received  a  challeng'e  to  fight  a 
duel,  not  being  able  in  any  other  way  to  account  for  the 
hatred  and  defiance  expressed  in  his  face. 

Byron  occupied  lodgings  at  No.  8  St.  James's  Street  at 
various  times,  from  early  in  the  year  1808  to  1814.  Here 
he  published  his  'Satire'  in  1801),  and  from  hei-e,  on  the 
30th  March  in  the  same  yeai-,  he  drove  to  take  his  seat  for 
the  first  time  in  the  House  of  Lords.     Mr.  Dallas  writes  :  — 

On  that  day,  passing  down  St.  James's  Street,  but  with  no 
intention  of  calling,  I  saw  his  chariot  at  his  door,  and  went  in. 
His  countenance,  paler   than   usual,  showed  that  his  ,,       ,    ^.^ 

^  Moore's  Life 

mind  was  agitated.  .  .  .  He  said  to  me,  '  I   am  glad  or  Byron, 

,  1  ^  •         T  ■        J.     ^.  ^  t    vol.  i.,  1809. 

you  happened  to  come  in  ;  I  am  going  to  take  my  seat, 

perhaps  you  will  go  with  me.'     I  expressed  my  readiness  to  attend 

him  ;  while  at  the  same   time  I  concealed   the   shock  1  felt  on 

thinking  that  this  young  man,  who  by  birth,  fortune,  and  talents, 

stood  high  in  life,  should  have  lived  so  unconnected  and  neglectetf 

by  persons  of  his  own  rank,  that  there  was  not  a  single  member 

of  the  Senate  to  which  he  belonged,  to  whom  he  could  or  would 

apply  to  introduce  him  in  a  manner  becoming  his  birth.     I  saw 

that  he  felt  the  situation,  and  I  fully  partook  of  his  indignation. 

While  living  in  this  house,  No.  8  St.  James's  Street,  in 
1812,  and  shortly  after  the  publication  of  '  Childe  Harold,' 
he  woke  up  on  that  historic  morning  to  find  himself  famous. 
The  house,  still  standing  in  1885,  had  been  altered,  and  a 
story  added  ;  but  the  adjoining  house.  No.  7,  showed  how 
it  appeared  in  Byron's  time. 

A  number  of  letters  of  his  are  addressed  from  No.  4 
Bennet  Street,  St.  James's  Street,  which  he  sometimes  called 
'  Benedictine  Street,'  a  house  that  was  still  used  as  a  lodging- 
house  half  a  century  later.  During  these  seven  or  eight 
years  before  his  marriage  he  occasionally  lived  at  Stevens's 
(afterwards  Fischer's)  Hotel,  No.  18  New  Bond  Street, 
4 


32  LOIU)   BYKON.  [1788-1824. 

with  an  entrance  on  Clifford  Street,  opposite  Long's ;  and  at 
Gordon's  Hotel,  No.  I  Albemarle  Street,  corner  of  Piccadilly. 
According  to  INLr.  Jesse,  the  greater  part  of  '  Tlie  Coi-sair' 
was  composed  by  Byron  while  he  was  walking  up  and  down 
Albemarle  Street,  between  Grafton  Street  and  Piccadilly. 

On  the  9th  of  April,  1814,  liyron  wi-ote  to  Moore  from 
A,  No.  2,  The  Albany  :  — 

Viscount  Ahlioi'p  is  about  to  be  luairied,  aiul  I  have  gotten  his 
spaiious  biichelor  apartnieuts  in  the  Albany,  to  which  I  hope  you 
will  address  a  speedy  answer  to  this  mine  epistle. 

The  Albany  is  a  long  row  of  semi-detached  buildings, 
extending  from  Piccadilly  through  to  Burlington  Gardens, 
just  east  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Arts.  It  is  let  out  in 
chambers  to  single  gentlemen,  and  has  had  many  distin- 
guished occupants.  Here  Byron  wrote  the  '  Ode  on  the 
Fall  of  Napoleon,'  and  herefrom  he  set  out  to  be  married 
to  Miss  Milbanke,  on  January  2,  1815. 

Lord  and  Lady  Byron,  in  the  spring  of  1815,  took  pos- 
session of  the  mansion  No.  13  Piccadilly  Terrace,  where  in 
December  of  the  same  year  the  sole  daugliter  of  his  house 
and  heart  was  born;  and  this  house,  in  January,  1816, 
Lady  Byron  quitted,  never  to  see  her  lord  again.  It  was 
still  standing  in  1885,  near  Park  Lane,  and  numbered  139 
Piccadilly.^' 

Moore  first  met  Byron  at  Samuel  Rogers's,  No.  22  St. 
James's  Place,  Piccadilly,  in  1811  (see  Rogers). 

It  was  at  first  intended  by  Mr.  Rogers   that  his  company  at 

dinner  should  not  extend  beyond  Lord  Byron  and  myself ;  but 

Mr.  Thomas  Campbell,  having  called  upon  our  host 

Moore's  .  ..,..,  , 

liyron,  vol.      tliat   niommg,    was    mvited    to    jom   the   party,   and 

consented.     Such  a  meeting   could   not  be  otherwise 

than  interesting  to  us  all.     It  was  the  first  time  that  Lord  Byron 

was  ever  seen  by  any  of  his  three  companions  ;  wliile  he,  on  his 

side,  for  the  first  time  found  liimself  in   the  society  of  persons 


LOUD    BYKON. 


1788-1824.]  LORD   BYRON.  33 

wliose  names  had  heen  associated  with  his  first  literary  dreams, 
and  to  two  of  whom  he  looked  up  with  that  tributary  admiration 
which  youthful  genius  is  ever  ready  to  pay  its  precui-sors.  Among 
the  impressions  which  this  meeting  left  uj)on  me,  what  I  chiefly 
remember  to  have  remarked,  was  the  nobleness  of  his  air,  his 
Ijeauty,  the  gentleness  of  his  voice  and  manners,  and —  what  was 
naturally  not  the  least  attraction  —  his  marked  kindness  to 
myself.  Being  in  mourning  for  his  mother,  the  color  as  well 
of  his  dress  as  of  his  glossy,  curling,  and  picturesque  hair  gave 
more  effect  to  the  pure,  spiritual  paleness  of  his  features,  in  the 
e.xpri.«sion  of  which,  when  he  spoke,  there  was  a  perpetual  play 
of  lively  thought,  though  melancholy  was  their  halntual  character 
when  in  repose.  As  we  had  none  of  us  l>een  appiised  of  his 
peculiarities  with  respect  to  food,  the  embarrassment  of  our  host 
was  not  a  little  on  discovering  that  there  was  nothing  upon  the 
table  which  his  noble  guest  could  eat  or  drink.  Neither  meat, 
fish,  nor  wine  would  Lord  Byron  touch,  and  of  biscuits  and  soda- 
water,  which  he  asked  for,  there  had  been  unluckily  no  provision. 
He  professed,  however,  to  be  equally  well  pleased  with  potatoes 
and  vinegar,  and  of  these  meagre  materials  contrived  to  make 
rather  a  hearty  dinner. 

Some  days  after,  meeting  Hobhouse,  I  said  to  him,  '  How  long 
will  Lord    Byron  persevere  in  his  present  diet?'     He   replied, 
'  Just  as  long  as  you  continue  to  notice  it.'     I  did  not  Rogers's 
then  know  what  I  now  know  to  be  a  fact,  —  that  Byron,  '^'^^^'^  Talk, 
after  leaving  my  house,  had  gone  to  a  club  in  St.  James's  Street, 
and  eaten  a  hearty  meat  supper. 

Byron's  meeting  with  Sir  Walter  Scott,  the  latter  thus  de- 
scribes in  a  letter  to  Moore,  written  after  Byron's  death  :  — ■ 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1815  that,  chancing  to  be  in  London, 
I  had  the  advantage  of  a  personal  introduction  to  Lord  Byron. 
Eeport  had  ])repared  me  to  meet  a  man  of  peculiar 
habits  and  a  quick  temper;  and  I  had  some  doubts  Lite of'seott, 
whether  we  were  likely  to  suit  each  other  in  society,  ^^'^^^y  *^^'^^*' 
I  Avas  most  agreeably  disappointed  in  this  respect.     I 
found  Lord  Byron  in  the  highest  degree  courteous  and  even  kind. 
We  met  for  an  hour  or  two  almost  daily  in  Mr.  Murray's  drawing- 
room  [No.  50  A,  Albemarle  Street],  ami  found  a  great  deal  to  say 


34  LUKl)   BY  RON.  [1788-1824. 

to  each  other.  ...  I  saw  Lord  Byron  for  the  hist  time  in  1815, 
after  I  n'tunieil  ['nnu  France,  lie  dined,  or  lunched,  with  me  at 
Long's,  in  Bond  Street.  I  never  saw  him  so  i'ull  of  gayety  or  good- 
humor,  to  which  the  presence  of  Mr.  Mathews,  the  comedian,  a<lded 
not  a  little.  After  one  of  the  gayest  parties  I  ever  was  present  at, 
I  set  olf  for  Scothind,  and  I  never  saw  Lord  Byron  again. 

Long's  Hotel  still  stood,  in  1885,  at  No.  16  New  Bond 
Street,^  and  Murray's  l^iblisliing  House  was  still  in  Albemarle 
Street,  near  Piccadilly,  on  the  same  spot  as  in  the  days  of 
Scott  and  Byron. 

Lord  Byron  died  in  Missolonghi,  Greece,  on  the  19th  of 
Ajjril,  1824.  His  remains  were  carried  to  England,  lay  in 
state  in  the  house  of  Sir  Edward  Knatchbull,  No.  25  Great 
George  Street,  Westminster  (the  Institution  of  Civil  Engi- 
neers in  1885),  on  the  9th  and  lOtli  of  July,  and  on  the 
16th  of  July  were  buried  by  the  side  of  those  of  his  mother 
in  the  family  vault  near  Nevvstead  Abbey. 

"Was  with  Rogers  at  half  past  eight  ;  set  off  for  George  Street, 
Westminster,  at  half  past  nine.     When  I  approached  the  house 

and  saw  the  crcjwd  assembled,  felt  a  nervous  trembling 

Moore  s  _  \  ° 

Diary,  July  eome  over  me  which  lasted  till  the  whole  ceremony 
"'  "  '  was  over.  .  .  .  The  riotous  curiosity  of  the  mob,  the 
bustle  of  the  undertakers,  etc.,  and  all  the  other  vulgar  accompani- 
ment of  the  ceremony  nnxing  with  my  recollections  of  him  who 
was  gone,  produced  a  combination  of  disgust  and  sadness  that  was 
deeply  painful  to  me.  .  .  .  Saw  a  lady  crying  in  a  barouche  as 
we  turned  out  of  George  Street,  and  said  to  myself,  '  Bless  her 
heart,  whoever  she  is  !  '  There  were,  however,  few  respectalde 
persons  in  the  crowd,  and  the  whole  ceremonj^  was  anything  but 
what  it  ought  to  have  been.  Left  the  bearse  as  soon  as  it  was  off 
the  stones,  and  returned  home  to  get  rid  of  my  black  clothes  and 
try  to  forget  as  much  as  possible  the  wretched  feelings  I  had 
experienced  in  them. 

Byron's  clubs  were  Watier's,  a  gambling-house,  No.  81 
Piocadillv,    corner  of   Bolton    Street,   and    the   Alfred,  No. 


1777-1844.]  THOMAS   CAMPBELL.  35 

23  Albemarle  Street,  neither  of  which  is  now  in  existence. 
He  was  also  a  member  of  the  Cocoa  Tree  Club,  whicli  still 
had  the  house  No.  64  St.  James's  Street  in  1885. 
On  the  9tli  of  April,  1814,  he  wrote  to  Moore  :  — 

1  have  also  been  drinking,  ami  on  one  occasion,  with  three 
other  friends  of  the  Cocoa  Tree,  IVoni  six  till  lour,  yea,  five  in  the 
matin.  We  clareted  and  champagned  till  two,  then  supped,  and 
finished  with  a  kind  of  Regency  punch,  composed  of  Madeira, 
brandy,  and  green  tea,  no  real  water  being  admitted  therein. 
There  was  a  night  for  you !  without  once  quitting  the  table,  ex- 
cepting to  ambulate  home,  which  1  did  alone,  and  in  utter  con- 
tempt of  a  hackney  coach,  and  my  own  vis,  both  of  which  were 
deemed  necessary  for  our  conveyance. 


THOMAS  campbp:ll. 

1777-1844. 

/'"^  AMPBELL  saw  almost  nothing  of  London  until  his 
^-^  marriage,  which  took  place  in  the  Church  of  St.  j\lar- 
garet,  Westminster,  in  1803.  Ho  shortly  afterwards  hired  a 
house  at  Sydenham,  where  he  lived  for  seventeen  years,  and 
where  the  whole  of  '  Gertrude  of  Wyoming  '  was  written. 

In  Xovember,  1804,  Campbell  wrote  from  Sydenham  to 
Constable  :  — 

If  yon  .come   to   London   and  drink   to   the   health  of  Auld 

Reekie  over  my  new  mahogany  table,  if  you  take  a  walk  round 

mv  "arden,  and  see  my  braw  house,  my  court-vard, 

'      .      Constable 
hens,  geese  and  turkeys,  or  view  the  lovely  country  in  and  his  Lit- 

my   neighl)  irhood,   you  will   think   this   fixture   and  '[.^'ifdentT" 

furniture   money   well  bestowed.      I   shall   indeed    be 

nobly  settled,   and   the  devil    is  in   it   if  I   don't  work  as  nobly 

for  it. 


36  THOMAS  CAMPBELL.  1.1777-1844. 

J^me  25,  1815.  —  Mr.  Campbell   asked   me   to  come  out  and 

see   liim   to-day,  and  make  it  a  lonj^  day's  visit.      So  after   the 

,„.  ,     mornin"  service  I  drove  out,  and  staved  with  him  until 
George  lick-  "  '  _  "  _ 

iior's  i.ife       nearly  nine  o'clock  this  evening.     He  lives  in  a  pleas- 

aiul  .louinal,  tit  ^    o     i      i  •'  -i 

vol.  i.  fluij).     ant  little   box  at  bydenliam,  nine  miles  udui  town,  a 

'"■  beautiful  village,  which  looks  more  like  an  American 

village  than  any  I  have  seen  in  England.     His  ^ife  is  a  bonny 
little  Scotch  woman,  with  a  great  deal  of  natural  vivacity. 

His   mode  of  life   at   Sydeuliam   was   almost  iinifonnly  that 
wliich  lie  afterwards  followed  in  London,  wlien  he  made  it  a  con- 
stant residence.     He  rose  not  very  early,  breakfasted, 
Cyrus  Red-  t    i  ,.  i  t       i      '  "    i  i  i     i 

tliiiK's  Recoi-  studied  lor  an  hour  or  two,  dined  at  two  or  three  o'clock, 

Fifty' Years.  ^"^^  then  made  a  call  or  two.  .  .  .  He  would  I'eturn 
home  to  tea,  and  then  retire  early  to  his  study,  remain- 
ing there  till  a  late  hour  ;  sometimes  even  till  an  early  one.  His 
life  was  strictly  domestic  ;  he  gave  a  dinner-party  now  and  then, 
and  at  some  of  them  Thomas  Moore,  Rogers,  and  other  literary 
friends  from  town  were  present.  His  table  was  plain,  hospitable, 
and  cheered  by  a  hearty  welcome. 

Thorne,  in  liis  '  Hand-Book  of  the  Environs  of  London/ 
described  this  house  in  1876  as  on  Peak  Hill,  'the  third  on 
the  right  before  reaching  Sydenham  Station.'  It  still  stood 
in  188.5,  unaltered  since  Campbell's  occupancy  of  it,  except 
that  the  gardens  about  it  had  been  covered  with  modern 
villas,  and  that  its  rural  character  had  disappeared.  It  was 
one  of  a  row  of  tall  red  brick  buildings  near  Peak  Hill  Koad, 
with  nothing  to  distinguish  it  from  its  neighbors,  and  was 
numbered  13  Peak  Hill  Avenue. 

In  1820  Campbell  settled  in  London,  on  his  appointment 
as  editor  of  the  'New  Monthly  Magazine.'  He  lodged  for 
a  time  in  Margaret  Street,  Cavendish  Square,  but  soon  took 
the  house,  then  No.  10  Upper  Seymour  Street,  since  known 
as  No.  18  Seymour  Street,  Portman  Square,  and  unchanged  in 
1885,  where  he  wrote  'Theodoric,'  '  The  Last  Man,'  etc.,  and 
where  he  remained  until  he  lost  his  wife,  in  1828.  Greatly 
depressed   in  spirit  after  his  bereavement,  he  resigned  his 


THOMAS    CAMPBKLl.. 


1777-1844.]  THOMAS  CAMPBELI..  37 

editorship  and  lived  in  loneliness  and  retirement  at  No.  61 
Lincoln's  Inn  I'iekls.  His  chambers  here  were  on  the  sec- 
ond floor,  and  the  mansion  was  still  standing  in  1885. 

In  1830  he  was  living  at  No.  1  Middle  Scotland  Yard, 
afterwards  the  Almonry  Oflice.  His  other  lodgings  and 
homes  in  London  were  at  42  Eaton  Sti-eet,  Stockbridge  Ter- 
race, Pimlico,  —  a  street  since  absorbed  in  Grosvenor  Place, 
and  of  course  re-numbered;  No.  18  Old  Cavendish  Street, 
Oxford  Street,  on  the  west  side ;  in  York  Chambers,  St. 
James's  Street,  on  the  northeast  co)-ner  of  Piccadilly  ;  and  at 
No.  30  Foley  Place,  Regent  Street,  a  few  doors  from  Mid- 
dleton  Buildings.  Foley  Place  was  afterwards  called  Lang- 
ham  Street,  and  renumbered.  In  1832,  while  devoting 
himself  to  the  cause  of  Poland,  he  occupied  an  attic  at  the 
Polish  Headquarters,  in  Sussex  Chambers,  No.  10  Duke 
Street,  St.  James's  Street,  still  in  existence  in  1885. 
August  25,  he  writes  :  — 

Here  in  the  Polish  Chambers  I  daily  parade  the  main  room, 

a  superb   hall,    where   all  my  books   are   ensconced,  ^^  gg^^^.. 

and   where  old    Nol   used   to   sive    audiences   to   his  ^^f^  Memoir 

'^  of  Campbell, 

foreign  ambassadors.  1832. 

Again,  September  28,  he  writes  :  — 

I  am  not  dissatisfied  with  my  existence  as  it  is  now  occu- 
pied. ...  I  get  up  at  seven,  write  letters  for  the  Polish  Asso- 
ciation until  half  ixist  nine,  breakfast,  "o  to  the  club  ^    , 

IllUl. 

and  read  the  newspaper  until  twelve.     Then  I  sit  down 
to  my  own  studies,  and  with  many  and  also  vexatious  interrup- 
tions, do  what  I  can  till  four.     I  then  walk  round  the  Park,  and 
generally  dine  out  at  six.    Between  nine  and  ten  I  return  to  cham- 
bers, read  a  book  or  write  a  letter,  and  go  to  bed  before  twelve. 

In  1840  Campbell  leased  the  house  No.  8  Victoria 
Scpuire,  Buckingham  Palace  Eoad,  Pimlico.  It  still  stood 
in  1885,  on  the  south  side  and  unaltered.  He  died  at 
Boulogne,  France,  June  15,  1844,  and  on  the  3d  of  July 
was  buried   in  the  Poets'  Corner. 


88  THOMAS  CARLYLE.  11795-1881. 


tho:mas  caelyle. 

1795-1881. 

/^^ARLYLE  came  first  to  London  in  1824,  and  lodged 
^-^  with  Cliarles  Buller  at  Kcw  Green.^'^  Later,  he  was 
m  the  house  of  Edward  Irving  in  Pentonville  ;  and  during 
the  same  year  he  took  other  rooms  in  Pentonville,  not 
very  far  from  his  friend.  He  had  various  residences  dur- 
ing his  short  visits  to  London;  but  it  was  not  until  1834- 
that  he  finally  went  to  the  house  at  No.  5  Great  Cheyne 
Kow,  Chelsea,  which  was  his  home  until  his  death  in  1881. 
Great  Cheyne  Row  has  been  renumbered  since  Carlyle  died  ; 
but  his  house,  then  Xo.  24,  was  standing  in  1885.  At  the 
time  of  his  taking  jDossessiou  lie  wrote  to  his  wife  :  — 

The  street  runs  down  upon  the  river,  -which  I  suppose  you 
might  see  by  stretching  out  your  head  from  the  front  window,  at 
a  distance  of  fifty  yards  on  the  left.  We  are  called 
Carlyle  "vol.  Cheyne  Row  (pronounced  Chainie  Row),  and  are  a 
xvUi'^^^  genteel  neighborliood.  The  street  is  flag-paved,  sunk- 
storied,  iron-railed,  all  old-fashioned  and  tightly  done 
up.  The  house  itself  is  eminent,  antique,  wainscoted  to  the  very 
ceiling,  and  has  all  l)een  new  painted  and  repaired  ;  broadish  stairs 
with  massive  balustrades  (in  the  old  style)  corniced,  and  as  thick  as 
one's  thigh  ;  floors  thick  as  a  rock,  wood  of  them  here  and  there 
worm-eaten,  yet  capable  of  cleanness,  and  still  with  thrice  the 
strength  of  a  modern  floor.  And  then  as  to  rooms  :  Goody ! 
Three  stories  besides  the  sunk  story,  —  in  every  one  of  them 
three  apartments,  in  depth  something  like  forty  feet  in  all,  a  front 
dining-room  (marble  chimney-piece,  etc.),  then  a  back  dining- 
room  or  breakfast-room,  a  little  narrower  by  reason  of  the  kitchen 
stairs;  then  out  of  this,  and  narrower  still  (to  allow  a  back 
window,  you  consider)  a  china  room  or  pantry,  or  I  know  nol 


■,,/a^^^r^-'  -l>5tfS«*v.^  ■=&*! 


THOMAS    CARLYLE. 


1795-1881.]  THOMAS   CAKLYLE.  39 

what,  all  shelved  and  tit  to  liold  crockery  for  the  whole  street. 
Such  is  the  ground  area,  which,  of  course,  continues  to  the  top, 
and  furnishes  every  bedroom  with  a  dressing-room,  or  second  bed- 
room ;  on  the  whole,  a  most  massive,  roomy,  suthcient  old  house, 
with  places,  for  example,  to  hang,  say,  three  dozen  hats  or  cloaks 
on,  and  as  many  curious  and  queer  old  presses  and  shelved  closets 
(all  tight  and  new  painted  in  their  way)  as  would  gratify  the 
most  covetous  Goody  :  rent  thirty-five  pounds.  .  .  .  We  lie  sale 
at  a  bend  of  the  river,  away  from  all  the  great  roads,  have  air  and 
quiet  hartUy  inferior  to  Craigenputtock,  an  outlook  from  the  1)ack 
Avindows  into  more  leafy  regions,  with  here  and  tliere  a  red  liigh- 
peaked  old  roof  looking  through,  and  see  nothing  of  London 
except  by  day  the  summits  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  and  West- 
minster Abbey,  and  by  night  the  gleam  of  the  great  Babylon, 
affronting  the  peaceful  skies.  The  house  itself  is  probably  the 
best  we  have  ever  lived  in,  —  a  right  old  strong,  roomy  brick 
house  built  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  [written  in 
1834],  and  likely  to  see  three  races  of  these  modern  fashionables 
fall  before  it  comes  down. 

There  he   sat,  aged,  honored,    famous, — the   leading   man   of 
letters,  perhaps,  of  his  generation.     An  old  dressing-gown  wrapped 
around   him,  slippers  on   his  feet,  his  face   grim   as  j^,,,,^,.^ 
Ln'anite,  and   liis  eves  with    that   sad  prophetic  gaze  BiKhaiian's 

o  '  '  11/^1       SaiKlie 

which  is  reproduced  in  all  the  photographs.     On  the  Maopher- 

book-shelves  close  around  him  were  well-thumbed 
volumes,  nearly  all  of  them  presentation  copies,  with  the  auto- 
graphs of  their  mighty  authors,  chief  among  them  a  set  of  Goethe 
with  notes  in  the  poet's  own  handwriting.  .  .  .  Only  the  day 
before  he  had  l^een  sent  for  by  the  Queen  of  England  as  one  of 
the  two  or  three  great  men  it  behooved  her  to  know  and  honor  •, 
and  having  spent  several  hours  of  conversation  with  her,  he  had 
pronounced  her  '  a  nice  homely  body,  just  like  scores  of  farmers' 
wives  he  had  met  in  Allandale.' 

Fronde,  in  bis  'Carlyle'  (vol.  iv.  chap,  xxxv.),  thus  de- 
scribes his  last  hours:  — 

His  bed  had  been  moved  into  the  drawing-room,  which  still 
bore  tlie  stamp  of  his  wife's  hand  upon  it.     Her  work-box  and 


^0  ELIZABETH   CAUTEli.  [1717-1806. 

other  ladies'  trittes  lay  about  iu  their  old  places.  He  had  for- 
bidden them  to  be  removed,  and  they  stood  within  reach  of  his 
dying  hand,  lie  was  wandering  when  I  came  to  his  side.  He 
recognized  me.  '  I  am  very  ill,'  lie  said.  '  Is  it  not  strange  that 
tho.-^e  people  should  have  chosen  the  very  oldest  man  in  all 
Britain  to  make  sutler  this  way  /'  .  .  .  When  I  saw  him  ne.vt, 
his  speech  was  gone.  His  eyes  were  as  if  they  did  not  see, 
or  were  fixed  on  sometliing  far  away.  .  .  .  This  was  on  the  4tli 
of  February,  1881.  The  morning  following  he  die<l.  He  had 
been  gone  an  hour  when  I  reached  the  house.  He  lay  calm  and 
still,  an  expression  of  exquisite  tenderness  subduing  his  rugged 
features  into  feminine  beauty.  I  have  seen  something  like  it  in 
Catholic  pictures  of  dead  saints,  but  never  before  or  since  on  any 
human  countenance. 


ELIZABETH   CARTER. 

1717-1806. 

TTROM  the  age  of  nineteen  until  her  death,  Miss  Carter  — 
-^  or  INIrs.  Carter,  as  she  was  called  later  in  life  —  spent 
mucli  of  her  time  in  London.  As  a  young  girl  she  visited 
her  paternal  uncle,  who  was  a  silk-mercer  in  the  city,  and 
other  friends,  until  1762,  when  the  success  of  her  '  Epic- 
tetus '  made  her  comparatively  independent,  and  she  took 
apartments  at  No.  20  Charges  Street,  Piccadilly,  on  the  first 
floor.  Here  she  lodged  at  intervals  for  many  years.  Upon 
the  death  of  her  landlord,  and  the  breaking  up  of  his  estab- 
lishment, she  wont  for  a  season  or  two  to  a  lodging-house  in 
Chapel  Street,  May  Fair;  hut  she  ultimately  came  back  to 
the  old  neighborhood,  and  settled  at  No.  21  Clarges  Street, 
where  she  died  a  very  old  woman  in  1806.  The  numbers 
iu  Clarges  Street  have  not  been  changed  since  her  day. 


1667(0-1723.]  SUSANNA   CENTLIVRE.  41 

There  is  a  tradition  that  Miss  Carter,  while  writing  for  the 
'  Gentleman's  Magazine '  under  the  name  '  Eliza,'  lodged 
for  a  time  at  St.  John's  Gate  (see  Johnson).  She  was 
buried  in  Grosvenor  Chapel,  an  appendage  to  St.  George's 
Church,  Hanover  Square.  It  is  situated  in  South  Audiey 
.Street,  opposite  Chapel  Street. 


SUSANNA   CENTLIVEE. 

1667(0-1723. 

n^HE  history  of  the  early  part  of  Mrs.  Centlivre's  life  is 
-'■  involved  in  obscurity.  Even  the  place  of  her  birth 
and  the  exact  date  are  unknown;  and  until  1706,  when  she 
married  Queen  Anne's  Yeoman  of  the  Mouth,  —  or,  as  Pope 
more  roughly  expressed  it,  she  became  '  that  Cook's  wife  of 
Buckingham  Court,'  —  she  never  had  permanent  local  habi- 
tation or  a  reputable  name  in  the  metropolis.  She  spent 
the  last  and  happiest  days  of  her  life  in  Spring  Gardens, 
Charing  Cross.  Her  husband's  house  was  on  the  corner 
of  Buckingham  Court.  Spring  Gardens  —  garden  only  in 
name  —  is  a  curiously  crooked  little  street,  immediately 
west  of  Trafalgar  Square,  connecting  Whitehall  with  the 
east  end  of  the  Mall,  and  St.  James's  Park. 

The  place  of  Mrs.  Centlivre's  burial  has  been  for  many 
years  undetermined,  many  of  the  older  authorities  —  among 
others,  the  '  Biographia  Dramatica '  —  placing  it  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Martin-in-the-Fields,  in  which  parish  she  died. 
But  search  of  the  Register  of  St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden, 
shows  that  she  was  buried  in  that  church,  '  Decemb'r  4*, 
1723.'  The  date  of  her  birth  or  the  position  of  her  grave 
is  not  recorded. 
6 


42  THOMAS   CHATTERTON.  [1752-1770. 


THOMAS   CHATTERTON. 

1752-1770. 

/^  H ATTERTOX'S  career  in  London  was  crowded  into 
^-^  four  sliort  melancholy  months,  and  almost  nothing  is 
known  of  his  life  here.  He  found  lodgings  at  first  in  a 
garret  in  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Walnisloy,  a  plasterer,  in 
Shoreditch  ;  he  died  by  his  own  hands,  in  the  house  of  a 
stay-maker  in  Brooke  Street,  Holborn  ;  and  he  found  rest  in 
a  pauper's  grave  in  the  burial-ground  of  the  workhouse  in 
Shoe  Lane. 

All  that  his  biographers  and  admirers  have  been  able  to 
learn  about  his  sad  London  experiences  is  given  below  :  — 

This   boy    [a  nephew^  of  Mr.  Walmsley],  who  was   the   bed- 
fellow of  Chatterton,  informed  Mr.  Croft  that  Chatterton  used  to 
sit  up  all  night  reading  and  writing  ;  that  he  never 

John  Davis's  i      i     -n  i  /•  i      '  <■  ,  i      i 

Life  of  came  to  beil  till  very  late,  oiteu  three  or  lour  oclock, 

Chatterton.  j^^^^.  ^|^.^^  j^^^  ^^^^  always  awake  when  lie  waked,  and 
got  up  at  the  same  time.  He  lived  chiefly  upon  a  halfpenny 
roll,  or  a  tart  and  some  water.  ...  He  did  not,  however,  wholly 
abstain  from  meat,  for  he  was  once  or  twice  known  to  take 
a  sheep's  tongue  out  of  his  pocket.  .  .  .  Early  in  July  Chat- 
terton left  his  lodgings  in  Shoreditch,  and  went  to  lodge  with 
Mrs.  Angel,  a  sack-maker,  hi  Brooke  Street,  Holboiii.  It  were 
an  injury  not  to  mention  historically  the  lodgings  of  Chatterton, 
for  every  spot  he  made  his  re.sidence  hns  become  poetical  ground. 
...  Of  his  extreme  indigence  there  is  positive  testimony.  Mrs. 
Angel  remembers  that  for  two  days,  when  he  did  not  absent 
himself  from  his  room,  he  went  without  food.  .  .  .  Mr.  Cross, 
an  a]wthecary  in  Erooke  Street,  bore  evidence  that  while  Chatter- 
ton lived  with  Mrs.  Angel,  he  frequently  called  at  the  shop,  and 


1752-1770]  THOMAS   CHATTERTON.  43 

was  repeatedly  pressed  by  Mr.  Cross  to  dine  or  sup  with  him,  but 
always  in  vain.  One  evening,  however,  hunger  so  far  prevailed 
over  his  pride  as  to  tempt  him  to  partake  of  a  barrel  of  oysters, 
when  he  was  observed  to  eat  most  voraciously.  .  .  .  Pressed 
hard  by  indigence  and  its  companions,  gloom  and  despondency, 
the  mind  of  Chatterton  became  disordered,  and  on  the  night  of  the 
24th  of  August,  1770,  he  swallowed  a  large  dose  of  opium,  which 
caused  his  death.  .  .  .  The  inquest  of  the  jury  was  brought 
in  insanity,  and  the  body  of  Chatterton  was  put  into  a  shell,  and 
carried  unwept,  unheeded,  and  unowned  to  the  burying-ground  of 
the  workhouse  in  Shoe  Lane. 

"We  know,  from  the  account  of  Sir  Herbert  Croft,  that  Chatter- 
ton occupied  the  garret,  a  room  looking  out  into  the  street,  as  the 
only  garret  in  this  house  does.  ...  It  was  a  square  Hotten's 
and  rather  large  room  for  an  attic.  It  had  two  win- 
dows in  it,  —  lattice  window.s,  or  casements,  built  in  a  style  which 
I  think  is  called  '  dormer.'  Outside  ran  the  gutter,  with  a  low 
parapet  wall,  over  which  you  could  look  into  the  street  below. 
The  roof  was  very  low,  so  low  that  I,  who  am  not  a  tall  man, 
could  hardly  stand  upright  in  it  with  my  hat  on  ;  and  it  had  a 
long  slope,  extending  from  the  middle  of  the  room  down  to  the 
windows. 

No.  4  Brooke  Street,  Holborn,  would  be  an  interesting  number 

if  it  remained  ;  but  as  if  everything  connected  with  the  history  ot 

this  ill-fated   youth,  except  his  fame,  should  be  con-  _.,,. 

,  .         ,         p      ,.  .  William 

demned  to   the    most  singular  fatality,    there   is  no  Howitt's 

No.   4  ;  it  is  swallowed  up  by  an  enormous  furniture  Haunts  of 

warehouse,  fronting  into  Holborn,  and  occupying  what  ^l^^lf^ 

used  to  be  numbers  one,  two,  three,  and  four  Brooke  vol.  i.  : 

^,  ,  ,        '   .  .  '  ,  ,         Chatterton. 

Street.     Thus  the  whole  interior  of  these  liouses  has 

been  cleared  away,  and  they  have  been  converted  into  one  long 

show-shop  below.   .  .  .  Thus  all  memory   of  the  particular  spot 

which   was   the   room   of  Chatterton,    and  where   he  committed 

suicide,  is  rooted  out.     What  is  still  more  strange,  the  very  same 

fate  has  attended  his  place  of  sepulture.     He  was  buried  among 

the  paupers  in  Shoe  Lane  ;  so  little  was  known  or  cared  about 

him    and   his  fate,  that  it  was   some  time,  as  stated,  before  his 

friends  learned  the  sad  story  ;  in  the  mean  time  the  exact  site  of 


44  THOMAS   CHATTiniTON.  [1752-1770. 

his  grave  was  well-nigh  become  unknown.  It  appears,  however,' 
from  iminiiics  wliich  I  have  made,  that  the  spot  was  recognized  ; 
and  when  tlie  public  became  at  length  aware  of  the  genius  that 
had  been  sutlered  to  perish  in  despair,  a  head  stone  was  erected  by 
subscription  among  some  admirers  of  his  productions.  .  .  .  The 
very  resting-place  of  Chatterlon  could  not  escape  the  ungenial 
character  of  his  fate.  London,  which  seemed  to  lefuse  to  know 
him  when  alive,  refused  a  (juiet  repose  to  his  ashes.  .  ,  .  The 
burial-ground  in  Shoe  Lane  was  sold  to  ibrm  Fairingdon  Mai'ket, 
and  tombs  and  memorials  of  the  deceased  disappeared  to  make 
way  for  the  shambles  and  cabbage  stalls  of  the  living. 

On  tlie  24th  of  August,  1770,  at  the  age  of  seventeen  years, 
Cuniiinf-  ni'iG  months,  and  a  few  days,  Chatterton  put  an  end  to 
iiHin'sHaiid-  },J3  life   by  swallowing  arsenic  in  water  in  the   house 

Book  of  ''  "  .  . 

London :        of  a  Mrs.  Angel,  a  sack-maker  in  this  street  [Brooke 
street,  Street],  then  No.  4,  now  [1850]  occupied  by  Steffenoni's 

Holborn.       furniture  warehouse.     His  room,  when  broken   open, 
was  found  covered  with  scraps  of  paper. 

Contemporary  directories  show  SteflFenoni's  to  have  been 
on  the  northeast  corner  of  Holborn  and  Brooke  Street.  His 
number  was  142  Holborn,  occupied  in  1885  by  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  [Jniversal  Building  Society.  Mrs.  Angel's 
was  about  two  hundred  feet  from  Holborn. 

Chatterton,  writing  to  his  mother.  May  6,  1770,  says  :  — 

I  am  quite  familiar  at  the  Chapter  Coffee  House,  and  know 
all  the  geniuses  there.  A  character  is  now  unnecessary  ;  an  au- 
thor carries  his  genius  in  his  pen. 

And  on  the  30th  May  he  wrote  to  his  sister  from  '  Tom's 
Coffee  House  in  Birchin  Lane.' 

The  Chapter  Coffee  House  stood  at  No.  50  Paternoster 
Row,  on  the  south  side  of  that  street,  on  the  corner  of  Chap- 
ter House  Court  and  nearly  opposite  Ivy  Lane.  It  ceased 
to  exist  as  a  coffee-house  in  1854,  but  was  opened  as  a  tav- 
ern a  ^evf  years  later;  and  in  1885  the  fine  mahogany  bal- 
ustrades   of  the    stairs,  and  the    dining-rooms   themselves. 


132S-1400.]  GEOFFREY   CHAUCER.  45 

remained,  comparatively  unchanged  since  Chatterton's  day 
(see  Bronte,  p.  22).^ 

'  Tom's '  stood  in  Cowper's  Court,  Birchin  Lane ;  but  no 
trace  of  it  remains. 


GEOFFREY   CHAUCER. 

13 — 1400. 

"VTOTHING  positive  is  known  of  the  phice  of  Chaucer's 
''■  ^  birth  or  education,  although  some  of  his  commentators, 
upon  the  dubious  authority  of  the  following  lines  in  the 
'  Testament  of  Love,'  claim  that  he  was  a  native  of  London." 

Also  in  the  Citie  of  London,  that  is  to  niee  soe  dears  and 
sweete,  in  which  I  was  foorth  grown  ;  and  more  kindely  love 
have  I  to  that  place  than  to  any  other  in  yerth,  as  every  kindely 
creature  hath  full  appetite  to  that  place  of  his  kindely  ingendure. 

Richard  Chawcer,  the  father  of  the  poet,  citizen  and  vintner, 
gave  to  the   church  of  Aldermary,  Bow  Lane,  his  tenement   and 
tavern,  corner  of  Kerion  Lane.     It  is  not  certain  that 
the   father   of  English   poetry  was  born  here  ;    some  Antiquarian 
claim  the  honor  of  his  birthplace  for  Oxfordshire,  and  j.ondon*' '" 
some   for   Berkshire.     Camden  says   he  was  born  in  ^'"^-  "• 
London  ;  and  if  so,  most  probably  at  the  corner  of  this  lane,   in 
the  house  just  mentioned. 

The  Church  of  St.  Mary  Aldermary,  destroyed  by  the 
Great  Fire,  was  rebuilt  by  Wren,  and  stands  in  Watling 
Street,  near  Bow  Lane.  Kerion  Lane  was  never  rebuilt  after 
the  Fire.  It  ran  parallel  with  Upper  Thames  Street,  north  of 
St.  James's  Church,  Garlickhithe.  The  present  Maiden  Lane 
is  very  near  its  site.  It  is  by  no  means  certain,  however, 
that  the  poet  was  the  son  of  the  Richard  Chawcer  who  is 
mentioned  above. 


4G  (iKOKFUKV    CIlArCEK.  [131iS-1400. 

The  stury  of  Chaucer  being  a  member  of  the  Temple, 
and  while  there  beating  the  Friar  in  Fleet  Street,  is  also 
thought  now  to  be  merely  legendary.  There  is  no  absolute 
reason  for  supposing  that  he  was  the  Chaucer  wliose  name 
appeared  uj)on  the  records. 

ciiaucer's  It  seemeth  that  both  of  these  learned  men  [Gower 

spe'-ilt*^^"      '""^   Chaucer]    were   of  the   Inner   Temple  ;  for  not 
putixedto     iiiiuiy  years  since  Master  Bucklev  did  see  a  record  in 

the  Black  ,  ,  ; 

Lt'ttcr  Folio    the  same  house  where  Geoffrey  Chaucer  was  fined  two 
shillings  for  beating  a  Franciscan  Friar  in  Fleet  Street. 

Chaucer  is  believed  to  have  been  married  in  the  chapel 
of  the  Savoy  Palace,  and  to  have  written  certain  of  his 
poems  in  the  Palace  itself.  It  stood  on  the  north  bank  of 
the  Thames,  west  of  Somerset  House  ;  and  the  last  remnants 
of  it  were  removed  on  the  building  of  the  approach  to 
Waterloo  Bridge.  Its  name  is  retained  in  Savoy  Hill,  Sa- 
voy Chiipel,  and  Savoy  Street,  Strand.  Tiie  present  Savoy 
Chapel  was  built  a  century  after  Chaucer's  death,  the  church 
in  which  he  was  married  having  stood  on  the  site  of  the 
Admiralty  Department  of  Somerset  House. 

Henry  Thomas  Riley,  in  his  '  Memorials  of  London  and 
London  Life  in  the  Thirteenth,  Fourteenth,  and  Fifteenth 
Centuries,'  published  in  18G8,  and  compiled  from  the  'Early 
Archives  of  the  City  of  London,'  quotes  in  full  the  '  Lease 
to  Geoffrey  Chaucer  of  the  dwelling  house  at  Aldgate  48 
Edward  III.  a.  d.   1374,'  as  follows:  — 

To  id.1  persons  to  whom  this  present  writing  indented  shall 
come  :  Adam  de  Bevry,  Mayor,  the  Aldermen  and  Conmionalty 
of  the  City  of  London,  Greeting  :  Know  ye  that  we,  with  unan- 
imous will  and  assent,  have  granted  and  released  by  these  presents 
imto  GeoflFrey  Chaucer,  the  whole  of  the  dwelling  house  above 
the  gate  of  Aldgate,  with  the  rooms  built  over,  and  a  certain 
cellar  beneath  the  same  Gate,  on  the  south  side  of  that  Gate,  and 
the  appurtenances  thereof  ;  to  have  and  to  hold  the  whole  of  the 


GEOFFREY    CHAUCER. 


i:32S  1400.]  GEOFFREY   CHAUCER.  47 

house  aforesaid,  with  the  rooms  so  built  over  and  the  said  cellar 
and  the  appurtenances  thereof,  unto  the  aforesaid  Geoffrey,  for 
the  whole  life  of  him  the  same  Geoffrey. 

This  gate  was  taken  down  in  IGOG  ;  and  another,  built 
upon  the  same  spot,  was  also  removed  entirely  one  himdred 
and  fifty  years  later.  Its  site,  by  comparison  with  con- 
temporary maps  and  plans,  would  seem  to  have  been  across 
the  present  Aldgate,  about  one  hundred  feet  west  of  Hounds- 
ditch  and  the  Minories,  say  half-way  between  Houndsditch 
and  Duke  Street  on  the  north  side,  and  between  the 
Minories  and  Jewry  Street  on  the  south  ;  probably  at  the 
junction  of  the  parishes  of  St.  Botolph  Aldgate  and  St. 
Katherine  Cree,  marked  on  the  house  numbered  2  Aldgate 
in  188.5. 

Tradition  also  says  that  Chaucer  wrote  his  '  Testament 
of  Love'  in  the  Tower,  that  he  spent  some  of  the  later 
years  of  his  life  in  Thames  Street,  and  that  he  died  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  Westminster  Abbey,  where,  in 
the  Poets'  Corner,   all  that  is  mortal  of  him  lies. 

Geoffrey  Chaucer, 'the  first  illuminer  of  the  English  language,' 
had  the  lease  for  a  tenement  adjoining  the  White  Rose  Tavern, 
which    abutted   upon   the   Old    Lady    Chapel   of  the  jj  g  q 
Abbey,  at  a   yearly  rent  of  535    4d.  from  Christmas  JJ^/,^,'^J|'^^^  ^f 
A.  D.  1399,  for   fiftv-three   years.     Here  probablv  he  Westmin- 

ster  p   •''19 

died,  on  October  25,  1400.     This   house,  the  tavern,  '     '    —    ■ 
and  St.  Mary's  Chapel  were  demolished  in  1502,  to  give  place  to 
the  f'orgeous  Mausoleum  of  King  Henrv  VH, 

There  is  still  preserved  a  lease  granted  to  him  by  the  keeper 
of  the  Lady  Chapel,  which  makes  over  to  him  a  tenement  in  the 
garden  attached  to  that  building  on  the  ground  now  ^^^^ 
covered  by   the  enlarged  Chapel  of  Henry    VIL     In  Stanley's 

■^  "  ,  ,       T  f    Westminster 

this  house  he  died,  October  25th,  in  the  last  year  ot  Abbey, 
the  fourteenth  century.  .  .  .  Probably  from  the  cir-  '^^^^-  '""• 
cumstances  of  his  dying  so  close  at  hand,    combined   with    the 
royal  favor  still  continued  by  Henry  IV.,  he  was  brought  to  the 


48  (ir.OKFHKY    CIlArC'ER.  [13-28-1400. 

Abbey,  and  buried,  where  the  i'unctionaries  of  the  monastery  were 
beginning  to  be  interred,  at  the  entrance  of  St.  Benedict's  Chapel. 
There  was  nothing  to  mark  tlie  grave  excej)t  a  pUiin  slab,  which 
was  sawn  up  when  Uryden's  monument  was  erected.  ...  It  was 
not  until  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.  [1551]  that  the  present  tomb,  to 
Avhich  apparently  the  poet's  ashes  were  removed,  was  raised  near 
the  grave  by  Nicholas  Brigham,  himself  a  poet,  who  was  buried 
close  beside,  with  his  daughter  Kachel.  The  inscription  closes 
with  the  echo  of  the  poet's  own  expiring  counsel  '^rumnarum 
requies  mors.'  Originally  the  back  of  the  tomb  contained  a 
portrait  of  Chaucer. 

Chaucer's  association  with  the  Tabard  Inn  is  well  known. 
In  the  '  Canterbury  Tales  '  he  says  it 

'  Befel  that  in  that  season  on  a  day, 
At  Sonthwark  at  the  Tabard  as  1  lay 
Ready  to  wenden  on  my  pilgrimage 
To  Canterbury  with  devoute  courage 
At  night  we  came  into  that  hostelry.' 

The  original  Tabard,  known  to  Chaucer,  was  taken  down 
early  in  the  seventeenth  century.  According  to  Stow 
(1598),  it  was  amongst  the  most  ancient  of  the  many  inns 
for  receipt  of  travellers  in  Southwark.  It  was  situated 
immediately  opposite  what  was  at  that  time  known  as  St. 
Margaret's  Hill.  On  its  site  was  built  a  second  Tabard, 
which  stood  until  1874,  and  was  by  many  later-day  pil- 
grims believed  to  be  the  original.  '  The  Talbot  Inn '  was 
painted  above  its  gateway,  and  there  was  also  a  sign  bear- 
ing the  following  inscription  :  '  This  is  the  Inne  where  Sir 
JefFry  Chaucer  and  the  nine  and  twent}^  pilgrims  lay,  in 
their  journey  to  Canterbury,  Anno  1383.'  The  latest  Ta- 
bard, at  No.  85  High  Street,  Borough,  on  the  corner  of  Tal- 
bot Inn  Yard,  is  of  no  interest  in  itself,  except  as  marking 
the  site  and  perpetuating  the  name  of  one  of  the  most 
famous  of  old  London  hostelries. 


1(394-1773.]        THE   EAKL   OF    CllESTEKl'lELI).  49 


THE  EARL   OF  CHESTERFIELD. 

1694-1773. 

npHE  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  born  in  London,  was  christened 
-*-  in  St.  James's  Church,  Piccadilly,  and  spent  the  greater 
part  of  his  life  in  the  metropolis.  He  lived  at  one  time  in 
St.  James's  »Square,  and  later  in  Bedford  Sti'eet,  Covent 
t'jlai-den ;  hut  his  most  important  London  home  was  the 
mansion  bearing  his  name  in  South  Audley  Street,  May 
Fair.  It  was  commenced  in  17-i7,  and  was  still  standing 
in  1885,  although  its  gardens  have  been  built  upon,  and 
are  shorn  of  their  fair  proportions. 

But  perhaps  the  most  interesting  apartment  in  the  whole 
house  [Chesterfield  House]  is  the  library  ;  there,  where  Lord 
Chesterfield  used  to  sit  and  write;  still  stand  [1869]  the 
books  which  it  is  only  fair  to  suppose  that  he  read,  —  Londouiana. 
books  of  wide- world  and  enduring  interest,  and  which  ^°'-  "  -^  ^^ 
stand  in  goodly  array,  one  row  above  another,  by  hun- 
dreds. High  above  them,  in  separate  panels,  are  'Kit  Kat'  sized 
portraits  of  all  the  great  English  poets  and  dramatists,  down  to  the 
time  of  Chesterfield.  ...  In  another  room  not  far  from  the 
library,  one  seems  to  gain  an  idea  of  the  noble  letter-writer's  daily 
life  ;  for  it  is  a  room  which  has  not  only  its  antechamber,  in 
which  the  aspirants  for  his  lordship's  favor  were  sometimes  kept 
waiting,  but  on  its  garden  side  a  stone  or  marble  terrace  over- 
looking the  large  garden,  stretching  out  in  lawn  and  iiower-beds, 
behintl  the  house.  Upon  this  terrace  Chesterfield  doubtless  often 
walked,  snuff-box  in  hand,  and  in  company  with  some  choice 
friend. 

This  room  is  the  subject  of  E.  M.  Ward's  well-known  pic- 
ture, '  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  Anteroom  of  Loi-d  Chesterfield,'  — 


50  CliARLES   (IIUHCIIILL.  [1731-17G4. 

an  incident  which  is  said  to  have  occurred  in  1749,  :ilthou<rh 
good  authorities  assert  that  the  Earl  did  not  occupy  the 
house  until  three  years  later. 

Chesterfield  died  in  Cliesterfield  House  in  1773,  and  was 
buried  in  Crosvenor  Cluipel,  South  Audley  Street  (see 
Carter),  according  to  the  instructions  contained  in  his  will 
that  he  should  he  i)laced  in  the  graveyard  nearest  to  the 
spot  where  he  niiglit  happen  to  die,  and  that  the  expenses 
of  his  funeral  should  not  exceed  one  hundred  pounds.  His 
remains  were  afterwards  removed  to  the  family  burial-place 
in  Shelford  Church,  Nottinghamshire. 


CHARLES   CHURCHILL. 

1731-1764. 

/^~^  HIT RC HILL  was  born  in  Vine  Street,  Westminster,  in 
^-^  1731,  and  was  probably  christened  in  the  neighboring 
Church  of  St.  John  the  Evangelist,  Smith  Square,  of  which 
his  father  was  curate  at  the  time  of  his  birth. 

Churchill  was  sent  to  Westminster  School  in  1 739,  where 
he  remained  ten  years. 

Shortly  after  [1746],  having  by  some  misdemeanor  displeased 
his  masters,  he  was  compelled  to  compose  and  recite  in  the  school- 
room a  poetical  declamation  in  Latin,  bv  way  of  pen- 
Gilfillan's  J,  .     ,  ,•  ,     1     •  ■'     1        J         i 

Life  of  ance.     This  he   accomplished   m  a  masterly  manner. 

to  the  astonishment  of  his  masters  and  the  delight  ol 
his  schoolfellows,  some  of  whom  l)ecame  afterwards  distinguished 
men.  We  can  fancy  the  scene  at  the  day  of  recitation,  —  the  grave 
and  big-wigged  schoolmasters  looking  grimly  on,  their  aspect 
however,  becoming  softer  and  brighter,  as  one  large  hexameter 
rolls   out  after   another ;    the  strong,   awkward,   ugly   boy   un- 


1731-1764.]  CHARLES   CHURCHILL.  51 

blufehingly  pouring  forth  his  energetic  lines,  cheered  by  the  sight 
of  the  rehixing  gravity  of  his  teachers'  looks  ;  while  around  you 
see  the  bashful,  tremulous  figure  of  poor  Cowper,  the  small,  thin 
shape  and  bright  eye  of  Warren  Hastings,  and  the  waggish 
countenance  of  Colman  [the  elder],  all  eagerly  watching  the  re- 
cital, and  all  at  last  distended  and  brightened  with  joy  at  his 
signal  triumph. 

St.  Peter's  College  —  or,  as  it  is  more  familiarly  called, 
Westminster  School  —  in  which  have  been  educated  so  many 
famous  Englishmen,  is  imiiiediately  adjoining  the  cloisters 
of  the  Abbey,  tlie  entrance  being  through  the  old  gateway, 
said  to  have  been  designed  by  Inigo  Jones,  in  Little  Dean's 

Yard. 

Churchill  contracted  a  Fleet  marriage  at  an  early  age,  and 
lived  unhappily  with  his  wife.  In  1758  he  was  appointed 
successor  to  his  father  in  the  Church  of  St.  John,  and  is  said 
to  have  preached  his  father's  old  sermons,  and  ger.erally  to 
have  conducted  himself  in  a  manner  unbecoming  a  clergy- 
man. At  the  same  time  he  was  acting  as  tutor  in  a  girls' 
seminary  at  Queen  Square,  Bloomsbury ;  but  his  habits  were 
so  irregular  that  he  was  compelled  to  resign  both  his  church 
and  his  school. 

One  of  Churchill's  favorite  places  of  resort  was  the  Bed- 
ford, '  under  the  piazza  in  Covent  Garden.'  It  was  on  the 
corner  near  the  entrance  to  the  theatre,  and  its  name  was 
perpetuated  in   1885   in  the  Bedford   Hotel. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  Beefsteak  Club,  which  met  in 
a  room  at  the  top  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  in  Churchill's 
time.  Wilkes  was  his  sponsor  in  the  society ;  but  his  con- 
duct was  such  as  to  shock  and  disgust  even  an  assemblage 
of  men  not  over  particular;  and  to  avoid  expulsion,  after 
the  publication  of  his  desertion  of  his  wife,  he  resigned. 


62  COLLEY   GIBBER.  [1671-1757 


COLLEY   CIBBEIL 
1671-1757. 

COLLEY  CIBBEll,  according  to  his  own  statement,  'was 
born  in  London  on  the  6th  of  November,  1671,  iu 
Southampton  Street,  facing  Southampton  House.' 

Southampton  House,  afterwards  Bedford  House,  taken 
down  in  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  occupied  the 
north  side  of  Bloomsbury  Square.  Evelyn  speaks  of  it  in 
his  Diary,  October,  1664,  as  in  course  of  construction. 
Another  and  an  earlier  Southampton  House  in  Holborn, 
'a  little  above  Holborn  Bars,'  was  removed  some  twenty 
years  before  Gibber's  birth.  He  was,  therefore,  probably 
born  at  the  upper  or  north  end  of  Southampton  Street, 
facing  Bloomsbury  Square,  where  now  are  comparatively 
modern  buildings,  and  not  in  Southampton  Street,  Strand, 
as  is  generally  supposed. 

Gibber,  in  his  'Apology,'  says  nothing  of  his  home  life 
or  of  his  social  haunts,  although  he  speaks  frequently  and 
freely  of  the  scenes  of  his  professional  labors. 

From  1711  until  1714  he  lived  in  Spring  Gardens,  White- 
hall (see  Mrs.  Gentlivre),  '  near  the  Bull  Head  Tavern,'  of 
which  now  there  is  no  trace  left. 

Gunningham,  iu  his  '  Hand-Book,'  quotes  the  following 
advertisement  from  the  'Daily  Gouraut,' January  20,  1703 
[sic,  probably   1713]:  — 

In  or  near  the  old  play  bouse  in  Drury  Lane  on  Monday  last 

—  the  19th  of  January  —  a  watch  was  dropped  having  a  Tortoise 
shell  case  inlaid  with  silver,  a  silver  chain  and  a  gold  seal  ring 

—  the   arms   a   cross  Avavy   and   cheque.     Whoever  brings  it  to 


1671-1757.]  COLLEY   CIBBEH.  63 

Mr.  Gibber  at  his  house  near  the  Bull  Head  Tavern  in  Old  Spring 
Gardens,  at  Charing  Gross,  shall  have  three  guinsas  reward. 

Walpole  declared  that  Gibber  wrote  one  of  his  plays  in 
the  little  cottage  which  stood  on  the  site  of  the  afterwards 
famous  Strawberry  Hill  (see  Walpole). 

He  is  known  to  have  lived  at  Islington,  and  in  Bei-ke- 
ley  Square,  in  an  old-fasliioned  town  mansion,  standing 
in  1885. 

Golley  Gibber  lived  in   Berkeley  Square  at  the  north  corner 
of  Bruton  Street,  where  my  mother  told  me  she  saw 
him  once  standing  at  his  parlor  window,  drumming  i,°r's'ReJ- 
with  his  hands  on  the  frame.     She  said  he  appeared  ^^ds  of  my 
like  a  calm,  grave,  and  reverend  old  gentleman. 

Among  them  all,  Golley  kept  his  own  to  the  last.     A  short 
time  before  the  last  hour  arrived,  Horace  Walpole  hailed  him  on 
his  birthday  with  a  good-morrow,  and  '  I  am  glad,  sir, 
to  see  you  lookmg  so  well.      '  ligad,  sir,    replied  the  naisofthe 
old  gentleman,  all  diamonded  and  powdered  and  dan-  fi*'''4^^j^°V 
dified,  '  at  eighty-four  it  is  well  for  a  man  that  he  can 
look  at  all.'  .  .  .  And  now  he  crosses  Piccadilly  and  passes  through 
Albemarle  Street,  slowly  but  cheerfully,  with  an  eye  and  a  salu- 
tation for  any  pretty  woman  of  his  acquaintance,  and  with  a  word 
for  any  'good  fellow  '  whose  purse  he  has  lightened,  or  who  has 
lightened  his,  at  dice  or  whist.     And  so  he  turns  into  the  adja- 
cent  square;  and  as  his  servant  closes  the  door,  after  admittmg 
him,  neither  of  them  wots  that  the  master  has  passed  over  the 
threshold  for  the  last  time  a  living  man.     In  December,  1757,  I 
read  in  contemporary  publications  that 'there  died  at  his  house 
in    Berkeley  Square,   Golley  Gibber,  Esq.,  Poet  Laureate.'  .  .  . 
Golley  Gil)ber  was   carried  to   sleep  with  kings   and   heroes   in 
Westminster  Abbey. 

Dr.  Doran  is  not  to  be  relied  npon  here.  Gibber  certainly 
was  not  buried  in  the  Abbey,  and  according  to  other  authori- 
ties he  died  at  Islington.  A  careful  search  through  files  of 
contemporary  publications  in  the  British  Museum  has  failed 
to  reveal  any  mention  of  the  place  of  his  death. 


54  COLLEY   CIHHER.  [1671-1757. 

Samuel  Lewis,  in  his  'History  of  Islington,'  publislied 
in  1842,  describes  the  'Castle  public  house  and  tea  gardens 
at  tlie  northern  termination  of  Colebrooke  (sic)  Eow,  Islin'*-- 
ton'  (see  Lamb),  and  asserts  that  '  in  the  house  next  to  this 
tavern,  Colley  Cibber  lived  and  died  '  (chap.  ix.  pp.  351,  352). 
The  Castle  no  longer  exists. 

Cibber  was  buried  by  the  side  of  his  father  and  mother, 
in  a  vault  under  the  Danish  Church,  situated  in  Wellclose 
Square,  KatclifFe  Highway  (since  named  St.  George  Street). 
This  church,  according  to  an  inscription  placed  over  the 
doorway,  was  built  in  1696  by  Caius  Gabriel  Cibber  himself, 
by  order  of  the  King  of  Denmark,  for  the  use  of  such  of  his 
Majesty's  subjects  as  might  visit  the  port  of  London.  The 
church  was  taken  down  some  years  ago  (1868-70),  and  St. 
Paul's  Schools  were  erected  on  its  fomidation,  which  was  left 
intact.  Rev.  Dan.  Greatorex,  Vicar  of  the  Parish  of  St. 
Paul,  Dock  Street,  in  a  private  note  written  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1883,  says  :  — 

Colley  Cibber  and  his  father  and  mother  were  buried  in  the 
vault  of  the  old  Danish  Church.  When  the  cliurch  was  removed, 
the  coffins  were  all  removed  carefully  into  the  crypt  under  the 
apse,  and  then  bricked  up.  So  the  bodies  are  still  there.  The 
Danish  Consul  was  with  me  when  I  moved  the  bodies.  The  cof- 
fins had  perished  except  the  bottoms.  I  carefully  removed  them 
myself  personally,  and  laid  them  side  by  side  at  the  back  of  the 
crypt,  and  covered  them  with  earth. 

Cibber  was  the  only  English  actor  ever  elected  a  member 
of  White's,  which  originally  was  situated  at  Nos.  69  and  70 
St.  James's  Street,  '  near  the  bottom  on  the  west  side.'  In 
1755,  two  3'ears  before  Gibber's  death,  it  was  removed  to  the 
position  it  has  so  long  held,  Nos.  37  and  38  St.  James's 
Street.  He  was  also  one  of  the  original  members  of  the 
'  Spiller's  Head  Club,'  which  met  at  the  Inn  of  John  Spiller, 
Clare  Market,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.     The  house,  if  standing, 


1671-1757.]  •  COLLEY  GIBBER.  55 

cannot   now  be  identified,  and  Clare   Market  has  changed 
greatly  for  the  worse  since  Gibber's  day. 

He  was  frequently  found  at  Tom's  Coffee  House,  which 
stood  at  No.  17  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden.  This  build- 
ing was  taken  down  in  1865,  and  on  its  site  was  erected  the 
National  Deposit  Bank. 

Mr.  Murphy  told  me  also  that  he  was  once  present  at  Tom's 
Coffee  House,  which  was  only  open  to  subscribers,  when  Colley 
was  engaged  at  whist,  and  an  old  general  was  his  part- 
ner.    As  the  cards  were  dealt  to  him,  he  took  up  every  \or'sRec- 
one  in  turn,  and  expressed  his  disappointment  at  every  ""['^^  °f  "^y 
indifferent  one.     In  the  progress  of  the  game  he  did 
not  follow  suit,  and  his  partner  said,  '  What,  have  you  not  a  spade, 
Mr.  Gibber  ? '     The  latter,  looking  at  his  hand,  answered,  '  Oh, 
yes,  a  thousand  ! '  which  drew  a  very  peevish  comment  from  the 
General.      On  Avhich,  Gibber,  who  was  shockingly  addicted   to 

swearing,  said,  'Don't  be  angry;  for, ,  I  can  play  ten 

times  worse  if  I  like.' 

I  cannot  let  slip  the  present  opportunity  in  mentioning  that  the 

house  in  which  I  reside  (No.  17  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden) 

was  the  famous  Tom's  GoflFee  House,  memorable  in  the  ,j.^^.^  p^ 

reicfu  of  Queen  Anne,  and  for  more  than  half  a  century  scriptive 

r  11  .,-,T  1  ,-  Particulars 

afterwards  ;  the  room  m  whicri  1  conduct  my  busmess  oftheEng- 

as  a  coin-dealer  is  that  which   in  1764,  by  a  guinea  tlonMed-* 
subscription  among  nearl}'^  seven  hundred  of  the  nobil-  ^'*- 
ity,  foreign  ministers,  gentry,  and  geniuses  of  the   age,  became 
the  card  room  and  place  of  meeting  for  many  of  the  now  illus- 
trious dead,  till  in  1768,  when  a  voluntary  subscription  among  its 
members  induced  Mr.  Haines,  the  then  proprietor,  to  take  in  the 
next  room  westward  as  a  coffee  room,  and  the  whole  floor  en  suite 
was  constructed  as  card  and  couversatioa  rooms. 
6 


50  SAMUEL  TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.         [177:i-1834. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOK   COLERIDGE. 

1772-1834. 

/"^OLERI DUE'S  associations  with  London  began  when  he 
^^  was  but  ten  years  old.  lie  entered  the  Bhie  Coat 
School  on  the  18th  of  July,  1782.  Charles  Lamb,  in  his 
Essay,  *  Christ-Hospital  Five  and  Thirty  Years  Ago,'  describes 
Coleridge's  experiences  there ;  and  Coleridge  himself  has 
frequently  told  the  story  of  his  school  life. 

The  discipline  of  Christ-Hospital  in  my  day  was  extra  Spar- 
tan. All  domestic  ties  were  to  he  put  aside.  '  Boy,'  I  remember 
„  ,  .,  .  Bover  savin"  to  me  once  when  I  was  crvinij,  the  first 
Table  Talk,    day  of  my  return  after  the  holidays,  —  '  boy,  the  school 

is  your  father  ;  boy,  the  school  is -your  mother  ;  boy, 
the  school  is  your  brother  ;  the  school  is  your  sister,  boy  ;  the 
school  is  your  first  cousin  and  your  second  cousin,  and  all  the  rest 
of  your  relations.     Let  us  have  no  more  crying.' 

Continuing  an  account  of  himself  at  school,  Coleridge  says  : 
'  From  eight  to  fourteen  I  was  a  playless  day-dreamer,  a  helluo 

libroriim,  my  appetite  for  which  was  indulged  by  a 
man's  Life  singular  incident  ;  a  stranger  who  was  struck  by  my 
vori^c^Iarft  conversation  made  me  free  of  a  circulating  library  in 

King  Street,  Cheapside.'  The  incident  indeed  was 
singidar.  Going  down  the  Strand  in  one  of  his  day-dreams,  fancy- 
ing himself  swinuuing  across  the  Hellespont,  thrusting  his  hands 
before  him  as  in  the  act  of  swimming,  his  hand  came  in  contact 
with  a  gentleman's  pocket ;  the  gentleman  seized  his  hand,  and 
turning  round  .  .  .  accused  him  of  an  attempt  to  pick  his 
])ocket ;  the  frightened  boy  sobbed  out  his  denial  of  the  intention, 
and  explained  to  him  that  he  thought  himself  swimming  the 
Hellespont. 

Coleridge  went  to  town  [in  1782],  and  Buller  placed  him  in 
the  Blue  Coat  School.     The  family,  being  proud,  thought  them- 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLERIDGE. 


1772-1834.]        SAMUEL  TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.  67 

selves  disgraced  by  this.     His  brothers  would  not  let  him  visit 
them  in  the  school  dress,  and  he  would  not  go  in  any  ^^^^^ 
other.     The  judge  invited  him  to  dine  in  his  house  Cmi.b 
every  Sunday.     One  day,  however,  there  was  company,  Diary,  au- 
and  the  Blue  Coat  boy  was  sent  to  the  second  table.  ^^^  ^^'^  ^^ 
He  was  then  only  nine  years  old,  but  he  would  never  go  to  the 
house  again. 

I  heard  this  anecdote  from  a  gentleman  who  was  a  school- 
fellow of  Coleridge's.  Coleridge  was  wildly  rushing  through  New- 
gate Street  to  be  in  time  for  school,  when  he  unset  an  ^   ^ 

S  C   Hall's 

old  woman's  apple-stall.     '  Oh,  you  little  devil ! '  she  Retrospect 
exclaimed  bitterly.     But  the  boy,  noting  the  mischief  Life  •  Cole- 
he  had  done,  ran  back  and  strove  to  make  the  best  "''^'^' 
amends  he  could  by  gathering  up  the  scattered  fruit  and  lament- 
ing the  accident.     The  grateful  woman  changed  her  tone,  patted 
the  lad  on  the  head,  and  said,  'Ob,  you  little  angel!' 

Christ-Hospital,  in  Newgate  Street,  better  known  as  the 
Blue  Coat  School,  was  built  in  1553,  on  the  site  of  the  old 
Monastery  of  Grey  Friars.  The  pupils  in  1885  still  wore 
the  uncomfortable  although  picturesque  dress  originally  de- 
signed for  them  in  the  reign  of  Edward,  the  Boy  King,  who 
was  founder  of  the  institution  ;  and  the  '  Blue  Coat  Boys,' 
so  frequently  met  with  in  the  streets  of  London,  are  clad 
precisely  as  were  Coleridge,  Charles  Lamb,  Leigh  Hunt,  and 
many  others  who  became  afterwards  distinguished  men. 

Coleridge  was  only  occasionally  in  London  in  the  early 
part  of  the  century ;  the  Continent  or  the  Lake  Country  of 
England  being  more  to  his  liking.  In  1 799  he  lodged  in 
King  Street,  Covent  Garden;  in  1801  he  was  found  in 
Bridge  Street,  Westminster,  the  character  of  which  street  has 
entirely  changed  ;  and,  according  to  Mr.  Rogers,  he  lodged 
once  in  Pall  Mall. 

Coleridge  was  a  marvellous  talker.  One  morning  he  talked 
three  hours  without  intermission  about  poetry,  and  so  admirably 
that  I  wish  every  word  he  uttered  had  been  written  down.  But 
sometimes  his  harangues  were  quite    unintelligible,  not  only  to 


58 


fSAMUEL   TAYLOR   COLKKIDGE.         [1772-1834. 


myself  but  to  others.  Wordsworth  and  I  calleil  upon  him  one 
forenoon  when  he  was  lodging  in  Pall  Mull,  lin  talked  uninter- 
ruptedly for  about  two  lioui's,  during  which  Words- 
Tabf^Taiu  Worth  listened  to  him  with  profound  attention,  every 
now  and  then  nodding  his  head  as  if  in  assent.  On 
quitting  the  lodging  I  said  to  Wordsworth,  'Well,  lor  my  own 
part  I  could  not  make  head  or  tail  of  Coleridge's  oration  ;  pray, 
did  you  understand  it  ? '  'Not  one  syllal)le  of  it,'  was  Words- 
worth's reply. 

Ill  1810  Coleridge  was  living  at  No.  7  Portland  Place, 
Hamnierstuith,  a  short  street  off"  Hammersmith  Road  ;  and 
it  is  said  that  he  once  had  lodgings  in  Edwardes  Sqnare, 
Kensington,  although  his  biographers  do  not  record  it.  In 
1816  he  went  from  No.  42  Norfolk  Street,  one  of  a  row  of 
old-fashioned  houses  still  standing  in  1885,  next  to  the  Strand 
end  of  the  street,  to  the  house  of  his  friend  and  biographer, 
James  Gilnian  at  the  Grove,  Highgate,  where  he  spent  in  com- 
parative retirement  the  last  years  of  life,  and  where  in  1834 
he  died. 

Coleridge's  Highgate  house  was  the  third  in  the  Grove,  — 
counting  from  the  top  of  Highgate  Hill,  —  facing  the  Grove, 
and  obliquely  opposite  St.  Michael's  Church,  in  which  is  a 
mural  tablet  to  Coleridge's  memory.  The  house  —  a  roomy, 
respectable  brick  mansion,  two  stories  high,  with  a  fine  out- 
look over  Nightingale  Lane  and  Lord  Mansfield's  Woods, 
towards  Hampstead  —  was  standing  in  1885  as  when  Cole- 
ridge died  in  it  fifty  years  before,  except  that  a  new  brick 
gable  had  been  lately  added,  blocking  up  the  end  window  of 
Coleridge's  bedroom,  the  room  in  which  he  breathed  his  last. 

Dr.  B.  E.  Martin,  in  a  private  letter  from  Highgate  in 
1884,  writes  :  — 

Recently  an  old  laborer  here,  very  old  and  fearing  death, 
sent  for  the  curate  of  the  parish,  who  discovered  that  he  was 
using  laudanum  for  his  rheumatism,  and  warned  him  of  the 
risks  he  ran.     The  old  man  replied  :  '  Why,  I  know  better,  Par- 


1772-1834.J         SAMUEL  TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.  59 

sou  ;  my  brother  was  doctor's  boy  to  Mr.  Oilman  fifty  years  or 
more  ago,  and  there  was  an  old  chap  there  called  Colingrigs,  or 
some  such  name,  as  Mr.  Oilman  thought  lie  was  a-curing  of  drink- 
ing laudanum,  and  my  brother  he  used  to  till  a  bottle  with  that 
stuff  from  Mr.  Oilman's  own  bottles,  and  hand  it  to  me,  and  I  used 
to  put  it  under  my  jacket  and  give  it  to  h'old  Colingrigs,  and  we 
did  that  for  years  and  it  never  hurted  him.'  .  .  .  Mrs.  Button,  a 
charming  old  lady  greatly  respected  in  Ilighgate,  lives  in  an  ivy- 
covered  cottage  on  the  Grove,  and  remembers  Coleridge  well. 
She  used  to  sit  on  his  knee  and  prattle  to  him,  and  she  tells  how 
he  was  followed  about  the  Grove  by  troops  of  children  for  the  sake 
of  the  sweeties  of  which  his  pockets  were  aljvays  full. 

Another  old  lady,  as  reoorded  by  Hodder  in  his  '  Memoirs 
of  my  Time  '  (chap,  v.),  gives  another  account  of  Coleridge's 
life  in  Highgate  :  — 

Meadows,  in  these  our  pleasant  perambulations,  was  wont  to 
speak  of  an  old  lady  who  kept  the  Lion  and  Sun  Hotel  in  that 
neighborhood  [Highgate].  This  was  a  favorite  resort  of  Coleridge  ; 
and  the  communicative  landlady  used  to  remark  that  he  was  a 
great  talker,  and  'when  he  began  there  was  no  stopping  him.' 
Whenever  she  returned  to  the  room,  she  said,  after  leaving  it  for 
a  short  time,  he  would  still  '  be  going  on,'  and  sometimes  he  made 
such  a  noise  that  she  wished  him  further. 

The  Red  Lion  and  Sun  Tavern,  an  old-fashioned  two- 
storied  red-tiled  slophig-roofed  little  inn  on  the  North  Road, 
just  beyond  Hampstead  Lane  and  the  old  Gate  House, 
was  standing  in  1885. 

Coleridge  was  buried  in  the  yard  of  the  old  chapel  in  High- 
gate.  His  tomb  was  covered  by  a  large  slab.  In  1866  the 
New  Grammar  School  was  built  on  these  grounds,  and  the 
grave  of  Coleridge  was  enclosed  in  the  crypt  of  its  chapel, 
William  Winter,  in  his  'English  Rambles,'  published  in 
1883,  thus  describes  it  as  he  saw  it  at  that  time  :  — 

He  should  have  been  laid  in  some  wild,  free  place,  where  the 
grass  could  grow,  and    the  trees  could  wave  their  branches  over 


60  WILLIAM   COLLINS.  [1720-1757. 

his  head.  They  placed  him  in  a  ponderous  tomb,  of  gray  stone, 
ill  Highgate  Churcbyanl  ;  ami  in  later  times  they  reared  a  new 
building  above  it,  —  the  Grammar  School  of  the  village,  —  so  that 
now  the  tomb,  fenced  round  with  iron,  is  in  a  cold,  barren,  gloomy 
crypt,  accessible,  indeed,  from  the  churchyard,  through  several 
arches,  Imt  dim  and  doleful  in  its  surroundings,  as  if  the  evil 
and  cruel  fate  that  marred  his  life  were  still  triumphant  over  his 
ashes. 

Coleridge  in  his  young  days  was  fond  of  the  Salutation 
and  Cat,  a  public  house  at  No.  17  Newgate  Street,  where  his 
companions  at  times  were  Sonthey  and  Charles  Lamb.  This 
tavern,  with  an  entrance  on  Rose  Street,  was  known  of  late 
years  simply  as  the  Salutation.  It  was  partly  destroyed 
by  fire  in  the  year  1883.  A  much  earlier  Salutation  Inn, 
which  stood  nearly  opposite  it,  between  the  lodges  of  Christ- 
Hospital  and  a  few  yards  back  from  Newgate  Street,  has 
long  since  disappeared. 


WILLIAM   COLLINS. 

1720-1757. 

TX  THEN  Collins  arrived  in  London  in  1744,  fresh  from 
'  ^  the  University,  he  seems  to  have  made  himself  very 
conspicuous  by  his  fine  clothes,  empty  pockets,  and  magnifi- 
cent opinion  of  his  own  genius.  He  was  to  be  found  in  the 
coffee-houses ;  but  no  record  is  left  of  his  lodging  or  home 
life,  except  that  Dr.  Johnson  visited  him  once  at  Islington, 
in  what  part  of  that  suburb  is  not  known,  and  that  he  lived 
at  one  time  near  Soho  Square. 

Going  from  Oxford  to  London,  he  [Collins]  commenced  a  man 
of  the  town,  spending  his  time  in  all  the  dissipation  of  Ranelagh, 


1732-1794.]  GEORGE   COLMAN,   Sr.  61 

Vauxhall,  and   the   Play  houses  ;   iuid  was   romantic  enough  to 
suppose   that   his   superior  abilities   would   draw  the  Q^y^^j^ 
attention  of  the  great   world  by  means  of  whom  he  ^jj^^^^^^ 
was  to  make  his  fortune.  .  •  .  I  met  him  often,  and  Magazine, 
remember  he  lodged   in  a    little    house  with  a    Miss 
Bundy,  at  the  corner  of  King's  Square  Court,  Soho,  now  [1781] 
a  warehouse. 

Kiiig's  Square  Court  is  that  part  of  the  street  since  called 
Carlisle  Street,  which  runs  from  Dean  Street,  Soho,  to  Great 
Chapel  Street.  In  Collins's  day  Soho  Square  was  King's 
Square. 

Collins  strutted  about  the  Bedford  Coffee  House  on  the 
Piazza,  Covent  Garden  (see  Churchill),  and  Slaughter's 
Coffee  House,  which  stood  on  the  west  side  of  St.  Martin's 
Lane,  three  doors  from  Newport  Street,  but  which  was  taken 
down  when  Cranbonrn  Street  was  cut  through  the  houses 
of  that  vicinity  to  make  a  new  thoroughfare  between  Long 
Acre  and  Leicester  Square. 


GEORGE   COLMAN,  Sr. 

1732-1794. 

/^EORGE  COLMAN,  Sr.,  'the  elder  Colman,'  was  a 
^-*    pupil  of  Westminster  School  (see  Churchill,  p.  50). 

In  his  youth  he  lived  with  his  widowed  mother  near  Rosa- 
mond's Pond  in  the  southwest  comer  of  St.  James's  Park. 
The  pond  was  filled  up  in  1772,  and  the  house  taken  down. 

Colman  was  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Lincoln's  Inn, 
and  lived  at  one  time  in  Great  Queen  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn 
Fields.  He  also  lived  in  the  left-hand  corner  of  Bateman's 
Buildings,  on  the  south  side  of  Soho  Square.  It  occupies 
the  site  of  the  gardens  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  whose 


62  GEORGE   COLMAN,   Jr.  [1762-1836. 

watchword  on  the  iiiglit  of  Sedgemoor  was  '  Soho,'  and  was 
unchanged  in  1885.  Some  years  before  his  death,  Cohnan 
lived  in  retirement  in  Uichmond,  a  short  distance  west  of 
Richmond  Bridge,  and  he  dietl  in  a  retreat  for  the  insane  at 
Paddington.  He  was  buried  in  the  Cluircli  of  St.  Mary  the 
Virgin,  Kensington  High  Street.  The  old  church  has  been 
removed,  but  a  tablet  to  Cohnan's  memory  is  to  be  found  in 
the  north  transept  of  the  new  building  erected  on  its  site. 

Kensington  Church,  us    I   remember  it   in  my  boyhood,  was 

one  of  the  few  really   picturesque    buildings   of  the  kind  near 

London.     It  was,  of  course,  by  no  means  worthy  of  a 

Hist'u'v  of     parish  which  can  boast  of  such  aristocratic  residents 

London,  vol.  j^^i  neighbors  as  the  Kensington  of  to-day,  but  it  har- 

u.  chap.  XXI.  ^  °  '' 

monized  well  with  what  is  left  of  Olil  Kensington 
Square.  .  .  .  The  old  church,  with  its  quaint  curved  gable  to 
the  street  corner,  and  its  well- weathered  red  brick,  has  also  dis- 
appeared. 

Colman  frequented  Tom's  Coffee  House,  No.  17  Russell 
Street,  Covent  Garden  (see  Gibber).  Among  other  clubs, 
he  was  a  member  of  the  Beefsteak  Glub,  which  met  in  Go- 
vent  Garden  Theatre  (see  Ghurchill),  and  of  the  Dilettanti 
Society,  which  met,  in  Golman's  day,  at  Parsloe's,  St. 
James's  Street,  a  tavern  familiar  to  the  literary  men  of  more 
than  one  generation.  Tt  disappeared  early  in  the  nineteenth 
century. 


GEORGE   COLMAN,   Jr. 

1762-1836. 

'  npHE    younger    Golman.'  like   his  father,   was  educated 
at  Westminster  School.     He  was   a  student  of  Lin- 
coln's Inn,  and  occupied  chambers  in  King's  Bench  Walk, 
Inner  Temple. 


1670-1729.]  WILLIAM   CONGREVE.  63 

He  lived  with  his  father  for  a  time  in  Soho  Square,  and 
was  a  member  of  the  Beefsteak  Club. 

He  was  mai'ried  iu  St.  Luke's,  Chelsea  (Chelsea  Old 
Churcli),  iu  1788,  and  died  at  No.  22  Brompton  Square, 
Knightsbridge,  the  numbers  of  which  have  not  been 
changed. 

He  was  buried  by  the  side  of  his  father  in  the  vaults  of 
Kensington  Church. 


WILLIAM   CONGREVE. 

1670-1729. 

/'^ONGREVE  came  to  London  in  his  twenty-first  year, 
^^  and  entered  the  Middle  Temple,  where  he  remained 
for  some  time.  He  lived,  successively,  in  Southampton 
Street,  Howard  Street,  and  Surrey  Street,  Strand,  in  houses 
that  it  is  not  possible  to  identify  now,  even  if  they  still 
stand,  which  is  not  at  all  probable.  Streets  were  not  num- 
bered until  after  Congreve's  day.  In  Howard  Street  Mrs. 
Bracegirdle  was  his  neighbor. 

Congreve  was  very  intimate  for  years  with  Mrs.  Bracegirdle, 
and  lived  in  the  same  street,  his  house  verv  near  hers, 
r.ntil  his   acquaintance  with   the   yoimg    Duchess   of  Anecdotes: 
Marlboro ugli .      He    then   quitted    that    house.      The  jjemoran- 
Duchess  shoAved  me  [Dr.  Young]  a  diamond  necklace  '-^}}}]1  ^ooi^' 
that  cost  seven  thousand  pounds,  and  was  purchased 
witli  the  money  Congreve  left  her.     How  much  better  would  it 
have  been  to  have  given  it  to  poor  Mrs.  Bracegirdle  ! 

It  was  while  living  in  Surrey  Street,  in  1728,  that  Con- 
gi-eve  received  the  memorable  visit  from  Voltaire,  in  which 
he  was  so  justly  rebuked  by  the  French  philosopher. 


64  ABUAIIAM   COWLEY.  [1618-1667. 

Coiigreve  spoke  of  his  works  as  trifles  that  were  beneath  him, 

and  hinted  to  me  in  our  first  conversation  that  I  should  visit  him 

upon  no  other  footing   than  upon  that  of  a  gentle- 

Letters"on      "1'^"   ^^'^'^  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^^  '^^  phiinness  and  simplicity.      I 

the  English    answered  that  had  he  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  a 

Nation. 

mere  gentleman,  I  should  never  have  come  to  see  him  ; 
and  I  \\'as  very  much  disgusted  at  so  unreasonable  a  piece  of 
vanity. 

Congi'eve  died  in  Surrey  Street,  and  lies  in  the  south  aisle 
of  the  nave  of  Westminster  Abbey,  not  far  from  the  grave 
of  Mrs.  Oldfield. 

Having  lain   in   state   in   the    Jerusalem    Chamber,    he   was 

buried   in  Westminster   Abbey,  where   a   monument 

Lh'elfof  the    ^'^  erected  to   his   memory    by  Henrietta,  Duchess  of 

ereve  "  *"°""  Marlborough,  to  whom,  for  reasons  either  not  known 

or  not  mentioned,  he  bequeathed  a  legacy  of  about  ten 

thousand  pounds. 

One  of  Congreve's  favorite  taverns  was  the  Half  Moon, 
which  has  long  since  disappeared,  hut  the  site  of  which  is 
believed  to  be  marked  by  Half  Moon  Passage,  No.  158 
Aldersgate  Street. 

He  was  also  a  member  of  the  Kit  Kat  Club  (see  Addi- 
son, p.  8). 


ABRAHAM   COWLEY. 

1618-1667. 

/^~^OWLEY,  the  son  of  a  grocer,  was  born  in  Fleet  Street, 
near  Chancery  Lane.  His  ftither's  house  is  known 
to  have  'abutted  on  Sargeant's  Inn,'  but  no  trace  of  it 
now  remains.'"  Izaak  Walton  must  have  been  his  near 
neighbor  there. 


1618-1667.]  ABRAHAM   COWLEY.  65 

He  was  a  pupil  of  Westminster  School  (see  Churchill, 
p.  50),  and  went  to  Cambridge  in  1G3G.  In  his  Essays 
(XL,  '  On  Myself,')  he  says  :  — 

When  I  was  a  very  young  lad  at  school,  iustead  of  running  on 
holidays  and  playing  with  my  fellows,  I  was  wont  to  steal  from 
them  and  walk  in  the  helds.  eitlier  alone  with  a  book  or  with 
some  one  companion,  if  I  could  hnd  any  of  the  same  temper. 

Cowley  had  but  little  exijerieuce  of  London  ;  and  as  his 
biographies  show,  he  soon  grew  weary  of  city  life,  and  sought 
rural  quiet  and  retirement,  first  at  Battersea,  then  at  Barn- 
Elms,  and  finally  at  Chertsey,  where  he  died.  In  his  later 
years  he  is  said  to  have  shown  a  strange  and  marked  aversion 
to  female  society,  leaving  a  room  the  moment  a  woman 
entered  it. 

Cowley  House  ...  in  which  Cowley  spent  his  last  days,  is 
on  the  west  side  of  Guildford  Street  [Chertsey],  near  the  railway 
station.  ...  It  was  a  little  house,  with  ample  gardens 

TiiorriG  s 

and  pleasant  meadows  attached.     Not  of  brick  indeed,  Hand-Book 
but  half  timber,  with  a  fine   old   oak   staircase   and  chertsey" ' 
balusters,  and  one  or  two  wainscoted  chambers,  which 
yet  [1876]  remain  nmch  as  when  Cowley  dwelt  there,  as  do  also 
the  poet's  study,  a  small  closet  with  a  view  meadow-ward  to  St. 
Anne's  Hill,  and  the  room,  overlooking   the  road,  in  which  he 
died.     He  lived  here  little  more  than  two  years  in  all. 

The  greater  part  of  this  house  was  taken  down,  and  again 
rebuilt  in  1878. 

Cowley's   allowance   was  at  last   not  above   three   hundred  a 

year.     He  died  at  Chertsey  ;  and  his  death  was  occasioned  by  a 

mean  accident,  whilst  his  great  friend,  Dean  Sprat,  was 

'  °  ^  Spence's 

with  him  on  a  visit  there.     They  had  been  together  Anecdotes, 
to  see  a  neighbor  of  Cowley's,  who,  according  to  the  1728-30.'* 
fashion    of    those    times,    made    them    too    welcome. 
They  did  not  set  out  for  their  walk  home  till  it  was  too  late, 
and   had  drank  so  deep  that   they  lay   in    the    fields  all  night. 


66  WILLIAM   COWPEK.  [1731-1800. 

This  gave  Cowley  the  fever  that  carried  bini  oil".      The  parish 
still  talks  of  the  drunken  Dean. 

It  is  but  just  to  tlie  ineuiory  of  Cowley  to  say  that  other 
authorities  assert  that  the  cold  which  ended  his  life  was  con- 
tracted while  he  was  '  staying  too  long  in  tlie  iields  to  give 
directions  to  liis  laborers.'  When  Charles  II.  heard  of  his 
death  he  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  'Mr.  Cowley  has  not 
left  behind  him  a  better  man  in  England.'  Few  men  of 
Mr.  Cowley's  guild  iu  England  are  more  entirely  forgotten 
in  the  Victorian  age. 

Cowley  was  buried  in  the  Abbey,  '  next  to  Chaucer's  monu- 
ment,' August  3,  1GG7. 

Went  to  Mr.  Cowley's  funeral,  whose  corpse  lay  at  Walling- 
ford  House  [the  site  of  which  is  occupied  by  the  Admiralty 
Office  on  Whitehall],  and  was  thence  conveyed  to 
Diaiy,  An-  Westminster  Abbey,  in  a  hearse  with  six  horses,  and 
gust  3, 1067..  ^Y[  funeral  decency  ;  near  a  hmidred  coaches  of  noble- 
men and  persons  of  cpiality  following,  among  them  all  the  wits 
of  the  town,  divers  bishops  and  clergymen. 


WILLIAM    COWPER. 

1731-1800. 

/'"^OWPER  was  a  pupil  of  Westminster  School  from  his 
^^  tenth  to  his  eighteenth  year,  which  were  probably  the 
happiest  years  of  his  life.  Among  his  schoolfellows  were 
Warren  Hastings,  Cumberland,  and  Qhurchill. 

The  time  of  William  Cowper  seems  now,  so  far  as  West- 
minster is  concerned,  equally  remote.  It  was  in  the  churchyard 
of  St.  Margaret's,  while  he  was  a  scholar  at  Westminster,  that  he 


WILLIAM    COWPER. 


STATED 


3l 


-  C^L- 


IJO^ 


e 


1731-1800.]  WILLIAM  COWPER.  67 

received  one  of  those  impressions  which  had  so  strong  an  effect 
on  his  after  life.     Crossing  the  burial-ground  one  dark  evening, 
towards  his  home  in  the  school,  he  saw  the  glimmering  Lof^je's 
lantern  of  a  erave-dig^er  at  work.     He  api)roached  to  History  of 

"  °°  ...  London, 

look   on,  with  a  boyish  craving  lor  horrors,  and  was  vol.  ii. 

struck  by  a  skull  heedlessly  thrown  out  of  the  crowded  *^  '^^^'  ''^'' 

earth.     To  the  mind  of  William  Cowper  such  an  accident  had 

an  extraordinary  significance.      In  after  life   he  remembered  it 

as  the  occasion  of  religious  emotions  not  easily  suppressed.     On 

the  south  side  of  the  church,  until  the  recent  restorations,  there 

was  a  stone  the  inscription  of  which  suggests   the  less  gloomy 

view   of  Cowper's    character.       It   marked   the    burial-place   of 

Mr.  John  Gilpin  ;  the  date  Avas  not  to  be  made  out,  but  it  must 

have  been  fresh  when  Cowper  was  at   school,  and  it  would  be 

absurd  to  doubt  that  the  future  poet  had  seen  it,  and  perhaps 

unconsciously  adopted  from  it  the  name  of  his  hero. 

After  leaving  Westminster  School,  Cowper  went  into 
solitary  lodgings  in  the  Middle  Temple;  but  in  1754  or 
1755  he  took  chambers  in  the  Inner  Temple,  where  for  a 
number  of  years  he  devoted  nnich  of  his  time  to  composi- 
tion, and  not  a  little  of  it  to  thoughts  of  love,  — for  it  was 
here  that  he  met  his  first  great  sorrow  in  life  in  the  refusal 
of  his  family  to  permit  his  marriage  with  his  cousin,  and  it 
was  here  that  his  mental  derangement  led  to  his  attempt 
at  suicide.  After  his  removal  in  1764  to  the  Asylum  for 
the  Insane,  on  St.  Peter  Street,  St.  Albans,  he  resolved  to 
return  no  more  to  London,  and  probably  ne-ver  saw  the  me- 
tropolis again.^  In  none  of  the  published  Lives  of  Cowper, 
nor  in  the  autobiographical  fragment  printed  by  Grimshaw, 
is  any  hint  given  as  to  the  e.xact  sites  of  Cowper's  homes 
in  the  Temple,  or  elsewhere  in  London. 

He  completed  the  weary  Task  of  his  life  in  1800. 

When  Cowper  lived  in  the  Temple  he  was  frequently  to 
be  found  at  '  Dick's  Coffee  House,'  No.  8  Fleet  Street,  near 
Temple  Bar,  then  called  '  Richard's'  (see  Addison,  p.  8). 


68  GEORGE   CKABBE  I1754r-1832. 


GEOKGE  CKABBE. 

1754-1832. 

r^  RABBE  *  took  lodgings  near  the  Exchange '  when  he 
^-^  arrived  in  London,  a  literary  adventurer,  in  1780.  In 
1817  he  lodged  at  j^o.  37  Bury  Street,  St.  James's,  rebuilt 
and  a  hotel  in  1885.  He  was  a  welcome  guest  at  Holland 
House  (see  Addison,  p.  4),  at  thr  house  of  Mr.  Murray  the 
publisher,  No.  50  A,  Albemarle  Street,  Piccadillj^  (see  Byron, 
p.  33),  and  at  the  house  of  Edmund  Burke,  in  Charles  Street, 
St.  James's  Square  (see  Burke,  p.  28)  ;  but  the  greater  part  of 
his  life  was  spent  in  the  rural  parishes  of  England,  and 
London  rarely  saw  him.  He  was  a  frequent  guest  at  '  The 
Hill,'  the  house  of  .his  friend  Lemuel  Hoare,  at  North  End, 
Hampstead  Heath.  It  was,  in  1885,  a  large  yellow  brick 
mansion  that  had  been  renewed,  although  its  old  gate-posts 
were  retained.  It  faced  the  east,  the  last  house  on  the 
Heath,  and  at  the  top  of  Hendon  Road. 

In  one  of  his  letters  he  says,  '  I  rhyme  with  a  great  deal 
of  facility  at  Hampstead.' 

In  his  Diary,  July  15,  1817,  he  records  the  writing  of 
*  some  lines  in  the  solitude  of  Somerset  House,  not  fifty 
yards  from  the  Thames  on  one  side,  and  the  Strand  on  the 
other,  but  quiet  as  the  lands  of  Arabia.' 

One  of  Crabbe's  later  resorts  in  London  was  the  Hum- 
mums,  on  the  southeast  corner  of  the  Market  Place,  Covent 
Garden,  an  old-fashioned  hotel,  still  frequented  in  1885  by 
the  sons  and  grandsons  of  the  men  who  knew  and  met  Mr. 
Crabbe  there.  It  boasts  of  its  successive  generations  of 
patrons  and  guests,  but  is  soon  to  be  destroyed. 


1701-1770.]  ALEXANDER   CRUDEN.  69 

Crabbe,  after  his  literary  reputation  had  been  established,  was 
staying  for  a  few  days  at  the  old  llunmuuns  ;  but  he  was  known 
to  the  coflee-room  and  to  the  waiters  merely  as  '  Mr.  Rogers's 
Crabbe.'  One  forenoon,  when  he  had  gone  out,  a  gen-  "^^^^^  '^'''^'^• 
tleman  called  on  him,  and  while  expressing  his  regret  at  not  find- 
ing him,  happened  to  let  drop  the  information  that  Mr.  Crabbe 
was  the  celebrated  poet.  The  next  time  that  Crabbe  entered  the 
coffee-room  he  was  perfectly  astonished  at  the  sensation  which  he 
caused  ;  the  company  were  all  eagerness  to  look  at  him,  the  waiters 
all  officiousness  to  serve  him. 


ALEXANDER   CKUDEN. 

1701-1770. 

/'^RUDEN  settled  in  London  in  1732,  and  opened  a  book- 
^^  stall  under  the  Royal  Exchange.  Here  he  prepared 
and  published,  in  1737,  his  'Concordance,'  the  financial  re- 
sults of  which  were  so  disastrous  as  to  ruin  him  in  business 
and  derange  his  mind.  This  Exchange,  on  the  site  of  the 
present  building,  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1838,  and  no  trace 
of  Cruden's  shoj)  remains. 

Cruden  was  confined  for  a  time  in  a  private  madhouse  in 
Bethnal  Green,  from  which  he  escaped. 

His  subsequent  London  homes  were  somewhere  in  the 
Savoy,  in  Upper  Street,  Islington,  and  later  in  Camden 
Passage,  Islington  Green. 

After  residing  about  a  year  at  Aberdeen,  he  returned  to  Lon- 
don and  resumed  his  lodgings  at  Islington   [in  Cam-  j^,j^  j^gj. 
den  Passacel  where  he  died  on  the  morning  of  Novem-  son's  His- 

"   J'  '  tory  01  is- 

lier  1,  1770,  in  tlie  sixty-ninth  year  of  his  age.     When  lington, 

.  •      1811    p  3^^ 

the  person  of  the  house  went  to  inform  him  that  his         >    •   ■ 


70  KICIIAKD   CUMEEKLAXD  [173-2-1811. 

breakfast  was  ready,  he  was  found  dead  on  his  knees  in  the  pos- 
ture of  prayer.  He  had  complained  for  some  days  of  an  asthmatic 
affection,  one  of  the  paroxysms  of  which  probably  terminated  his 
life. 

Camden  Passage,  running  from  Camden  Street,  Islington, 
southerly,  behind  the  High  Street,  and  parallel  with  that 
thoroughfare,  was  in  1 885  a  short  narrow  crooked  lane  be- 
tween rows  of  one-  and  two-storied  brick  houses,  dingy,  and 
some  of  them  as  old,  pi'obably,  as  Cruden's  time  ;  but  his 
house,  or  the  exact  position  of  it,  cannot  now  be  discovered. 

Cruden  was  buried  in  the  ground  of  the  Dissenters  in 
Deadman's  Place,  Southwark,  which  was  described  as  being 
•  the  second  turning  in  Park  Street  on  the  left  fi'om  the 
Borough  Market.'  The  cemetery  is  no  longer  in  existence. 
The  Brewery  of  Barclay  and  Perkins  occupies  a  portion  of 
its  site. 


EICHAED   CUMBERLAND. 

1732-1811. 

/CUMBERLAND  entered  Westminster  School  (see 
^^^  Churchill,  p.  50)  in  1744,  when  he  boarded  in 
'  Peters  Street,  two  doors  from  the  turning  out  of  College 
Street,'  —  a  vague  address,  as  Peters  Street  and  Great 
College  Street  both  run  east  and  west. 

Cumber-  I  remained  in  Westminster  School,  as  well  as  I  can 

land  3  Me-  n  n  . 

iiioiiofHiiii-  recollect,  half  a  year  in  the  shell,  and  one  year  in  the 
""  '  '  ■  '  sixth  form.  .  .  .  When  only  hi  my  fourteenth  year, 
I  was  admitted  to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 

At  Westminster,  with  him,  were  the  elder  Colman,  Cowper, 
Churchill,  and  AVarren  Hastings. 


1784-1842.]  ALLAN   CUNNINGHAM.  71 

111  his  twentieth  year,  upon  becoming  Secretary  to  Lord 
Halifax,  he  found  lodgings  in  Downing  Street,  and  after- 
wards in  Mount  Street,  Berkeley  Square. 

In  my  lodgings  in  Mount  Street,   I   liad  stocked  myself  with 
my  own  books,  some  of  mv  father's,  and  those  which  „     , 
Dr.  Richard  Beiitley  had  bestowed  upon  me.     I  sought  land's  Me- 

■  ,      1  J.  ,.  inoir  of 

no  company,  nor  wished  lor  any  new  connections.  .  .  .   Himself, 
About  this  time  I  made  my  first  small  offering  to  the  '^  '^^*'  "' 
press,   following  the   steps   of  Gray  with   another  '  Churchyard 
Elegy,'  written  on  St.  Mark's  Eve. 

Cumberland,  after  his  marriage,  '  took  a  house  for  a  short 
time  in  Luke  Street,  Westminster,  and  afterwards  in  Abins:- 
don  Buildings.'  Abingdon  Buildings  ran  from  Abingdon 
Street  to  the  Thames,  opposite  Great  College  Street.  It  dis- 
appeared on  the  erection  of  the  new  Houses  of  Parliament. 

Later,  Cumberland  lived  for  many  years  in  Queen  Anne 
Street,  at  the  corner  of  Wimpole  Street.  Here  he  wrote 
the  '  West  Indian,'  and  here,  probably,  he  remained  until 
he  removed  to  Tunbridge  Wells,  in  1781. 

Cumberland  was  again  in  London  during  the  last  few  years 
of  his  life,  and  he  died  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in  Bedford 
Place,  Russell  Square.  He  was  buried  close  to  Shakspere's 
statue,  in  the  Poets'  Corner. 


ALLAN   CUNNINGHAM. 

1784-1842. 

A  LLAN  CUNNINGHAM  lived  from  1824  until  the  time 

of  his   death,  eighteen  years   later,  at  No.   27  Lower 

Belgrave   Place,   in  a  house  unchanged   in    1885,  but  then 

known  as  No.  98  Buckingham  Palace  Eoad.     He  was  foreman 


72  MADAME   D'ARBLAY.  [1752-1840. 

for  many  years  in  the  stiidio  of  Chantrey,  on  the  corner  of 
Lower  Belgrave  Place  and  Eccleston  Street,  still  standing, 
half  a  century  later,  as  Chantrey  left  it,  and  called  Chan- 
trey House. 

Cunningliam  was  buried  in  the  northwest  corner  of  the 
*    cemetery  of  Keusal  (ireen. 

Mi"s.  Thomson,  in  her  '  Recollections  of  Literary  Char- 
acters,' thus  describes  her  first  interview  with  Cunningham 
in  Chantrey's  studio  :  — 

Covered  with  a  sort  of  apron  or  pinafore,  such  as  good  old- 
fashioned  cooks  used  to  put  on  when  cooking,  a  small  cliisel  in 
his  hand,  his  face  wearing  a  puzzled  look,  and  emerging  from 
a  half'-tiiiished  monument,  came  forth  Allan  Cunningham.  .  •  . 
'  There  are  some  pretty  things  here,'  he  remarked,  in  his  broad 
Scotch,  — •  the  broadest  Scotch,  —  a  Scotch  never  diluted  by  the 
slightest  approach  to  English, — a  Scotch  just  intelligible,  and 
that  is  all. 


MADAME  D'A RELAY. 

1752-1840. 

"PANNY  BURNEY  was  brought  to  London  by  her  par- 
-^  ents  in  17G0;  and  when  her  mother  died,  during  the 
next  year,  she  was  at  school  near  her  father's  house  in  Queen 
Square,  Bloomsbnry,  perhaps  under  the  tuition  of  Churchill 
(see  Churchill,  p.  .51).  In  1774,  when  Dr.  Burney  was 
organist  to  Chelsea  Hospital  she  lived  in  the  grounds  be- 
longing to  that  institution. 

Portions  of  'Evelina'  were  written  at  No.  35  St.  Martin's 
Street,  Leicester  Square. 

Numerous   were   the    friends   who    frecj^uented   Dr.    Burney's 
hospitable  residence  in  Poland  Street  [Oxford  Street],  and  also 


-^^    ^x  ^«\  \V%. 


MADAME    D  ARBLAY. 


1752-1840.]  MADAME   D'AKBLAY.  id 

that   in  Queen  Square,  which  he  afterwards  occupied.     The  lat- 
ter he  subsequently  exchanged   for  the   house  in  St.  ^j^.^ 
Martin's  Street,  which  had    once  been  the   abode  of  Elwood's 
Sir  Isaac  Newton,   and  where    still   remained,  above  Ladies  of 
the  attic,  his  observatory  [see  Newton],    which,  with  vo"i°u."  ' 
due  reverence,  Dr.  Burney  caused  to  be  repaired  and  p.^^Sy 
preserved. 

A  letter  of  Miss  Barney's,  dated  1785,  was  written  'at 
Mrs.  Delaney's,  in  St.  James's  Place,'  St.  James's  Street. 
She  became  Madame  D'Arblay  in  1793;  and  after  *a  long 
residence  on  the  Continent,  and  at  Bath  and  elsewhere  in 
the  provinces  of  England,  she  settled  in  London  in  1818. 

Thursdmj,  October  18,  1818.  —  I  came  this  evening  to  my  new 
and   probably  last  dwelling.  No.    11    Bolton   Street,   Piccadilly 
My  kind  James  conducted  me.     Oh,  how  heavy  is  luy  jj^^^^^^^ 
forlorn  heart !     I  have  made  myself  very  busj'  all  day ;  DArbiay's 
so  only  could  I  have  supported  this  first  opening  to  my 
baleful  desolation.     No  adored  husband.     No  beloved  son.     But 
the  latter  is  only  at  Cambridge.     Ah !  let  me  struggle  to  think 
more  of  the  other,  the  first,  the  chief,  as  only  one  removed  from 
my  sight  by  a  transitory  journey. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  was  taken  by  Rogers  to  call  on  Madame 
D'Arblay  in  Bolton  Street. 

November  18.  —I  have  been  introduced  to  Madame  D'Arblay, 
the  celebrated   authoress  of  '  Evelina '  and   '  Cecilia,'  ggQ^t-s 
an  elderly  lady  with  no  remains  of  personal  beauty,  P''*''/,' ^^.!?  • 
but  with  a  simple  and  gentle  manner,  and  pleasing  ex-  Life  of 
pression  of  countenance,  and  apparently  quiet  feelings. 

Madame  D'Arblay's  house  was  standing  in  1885,  the  num- 
bers in  Bolton  Street  being  unchanged. 

Afterwards  she  went  to  the  corner  of  Piccadilly  and  Half 
Moon  Street,  on  the  east  side  of  the  latter  thoroughfore; 
but  the  house  no  longer  remains.  She  died  in  Lower 
Grosvenor  Street,   New  Bond  Street,  in  1840. 


74  WILLIAM    DAVKNANT.  [1G05-1668. 


WILLIAM   DAVENANT. 

1605-1668. 

/~\F  Davenant's  private  life  in  Loudon  little  is  known  now, 
^^  except  that  the  first  Lady  Davenant  died  in  Castle 
Yard, (since  called  Castle  Street),  Holborn,  — a  short  street 
opposite  Furnival's  Inn,  the  character  of  which  has  entirely 
changed  during  the  last  two  centuries,  —  and  that  Davenant 
himself  died  in  apartments  over  or  immediately  adjoining 
the  Duke's  Theatre,  Portugal  How,  the  site  of  which  was 
afterwards  occupied  by  the  College  of  Surgeons.  The  chief 
entrance  to  the  theatre,  which  ran  back  to  the  south  side  of 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  was  on  Portugal  Street,  facing  Carey 
Street. 

The  Tennis  Court  in  Little  Lincolnes  Inne  Fielde  was  turned 

into  a  play  house  for  the  Duke  of  Yorke's  players,  where  S'  Wil- 

.  ^     ,         liani   had   lodgings,  and  where   he   dyed   April  166- 
Aubrey's  o     o  ?  i,      ,        ,     i  . 

Lives :  [1668].     I  was  at   his  fmierall  ;  he   had  a  coffin  of 

walnutt-tree.  Sir  John  Denham  said  'twas  the  finest 
coffin  that  ever  he  sawe.  His  body  was  carried  in  a  hearse 
from  the  play  house  to  Westnnnster  Abbey,  where  at  the  great 
west  dore  he  Avas  received  by  the  singing  men  and  choris- 
ters, who  sang  the  service  of  the  chiu'ch  to  liis  grave,  which  is 
in  the  south  crosse  aisle,  on  which,  on  a  paving  stone  of  mar- 
hie  is  writt  in  imitation  of  y*  on  Ben  Jonson,  '  O  rare  S'  Wm. 
Davenant.' 

I  up  and  down  to  the  Duke  of  York's  play  house  to  see,  which 

I  did,  Sir  W.  Davenant's  corpse  carried  out  towards 
Diary,  vol.  Westminster,  there  to  be  buried.  Here  were  many 
1668.^^'"'  ^'    coaches,    and    many    hacknies,   that    made    it  look, 

methought,  as  if  it  were  the  buriall  of  a  poor  poet. 
He  seemed  to  have  many  children,  by  five  or  six  in  the  first 
mourning  coach,  all  boys. 


1748-1789.  J  THOMAS   DAY.  75 

Davenant  directed  theatrical  performances  at  Eutland 
House,  which  stood  at  the  upper  end  of  Aldersgate  Street, 
near  what  has  since  been  called  Charter  House  Square ;  and 
at  the  Cock  Pit  Theatre,  in  Cock  Pit  Alley,  afterwards  called 
Pitt  Place,  Drury  Lane.  This  theatre  was  long  since  taken 
down ;  and  the  street  upon  which  it  stood,  and  which  ran 
from  No.  20  Great  Wild  Street  to  No.  135  Drury  Lane, 
entirely  disappeared  on  the  erection  of  the  Peabody  Build- 
ines  for  AVorkiuomen.  .Davenant's  name  is  also  associated 
with  the  Red  Bull  Theatre  in  Red  Bull  Yard,  Clerkenwell; 
no  trace  of  which,  or  even  of  the  street  that  contained  it 
now  remains.  Red  Bull  Yard  is  shown,  by  comparison  with 
old  maps,  to  be  the  present  (1885)  Woodbridge  Street,  or 
part  of  it ;  and  the  theatre  probably  stood  behind  the  arch- 
way called  Hay  ward's  Place,  St.  John's  Street,  Clerkenwell, 
opposite  Compton  Street. 

One  of  Davenant's  haunts  was  the  Brew  House  in  Axe 
Yard,  Westminster,  afterwards  Fluyder  Street,  on  the  west 
side  of  King  Street,  between  Charles  and  Downing  Streets. 
It  is  now  covered  by  the  public  offices  (see  Pepys). 


THOiMAS   DAY. 

1748-1789. 


T 


^HE  author  of  '  Sandford  and  Merton '  was  bom  in 
Wellclose  Square,  Shadwell.  As  a  child  he  lived  at 
Stoke  Newintiton,  where  he  received  the  first  rudiments  of 
his  education.  In  1757  he  was  sent  to  the  Charter  House 
(see  Addison,  p.  1),  where  he  remained  seven  years.  He 
was  a  student  of  the  Middle  Temple  ;  but  the  greater  part  of 
his  life  was  spent  at  Anningsley  Park,  Addlestone,  Surrey. 


r* /"» 


76  DANIEL   JJE   FUK.  [lGOl-1731. 


DANIEL   DE   FOE. 

1660-1731. 

"n\ANIEL  DE  FOE,  son  of  James  Foe,  a  butcher,  was 
^-^  bom  in  the  parish  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegatc ;  and  at 
the  age  of  twelve  was  sent  to  the  Dissenters'  School,  on  the 
north  side  of  Newington  Green,  near  the  Dissenting  Chapel, 
where  he  remained  four  years,  and  received  all  the  educa- 
tion his  father  was  willing,  or  able,  to  give  him.  One  of 
his  schoolmates  is  said  to  have  been  named  Crusoe. 

In  1685  De  Foe  occupied  a  shop  in  Freeman's  Court, 
Cornhill,  at  the  east  end  of  the  Royal  Exchange,  a  sti'eet 
no  longer  in  existence."*  Here  he  remained  in  trade  as  a 
hosier  and  wool-dealer  for  ten  years.  He  was  afterwards 
engaged  in  the  manufacture  of  tiles  and  bricks  on  the 
banks  of  the  Thames  at  or  near  Tilbury,  when  he  lived 
close  to  his  place  of  business,  and  spent  much  of  his  leisure 
on  the  river. 

In  January,  1703,  the  House  of  Commons  resolved  that 
a  book  of  his  should  be  burned  by  the  Common  Hangman 
in  Palace  Yard,  Westminster ;  and  the  Secretary  of  State 
issued  the  following  interesting  proclamation,  still  preserved 
in  the  Records  :  — 

Whereas,  Daniel  De  Foe,  alias  De  Fooe,  is  charged  with 
writing  a  scandalous  and  seditious  pamphlet  entitled  '  The  Short- 
est Way  with  the  Dissenters.'  He  is  a  middle-sized  spare  man, 
about  forty  years  old,  of  a  brown  complexion,  and  dark  brown 
colored  hair,  but  wears  a  wig  ;  a  hooked  nose,  a  sharp  chin,  gray 
eyes,  and  a  large  mole  near  his  moutii. 

A  reward  of  fifty  pounds  was  offered  for  his  discovery  and 
arrest. 


DANIEL    DKFOE. 


1661-1731.]  DANIEL  DE   FOE.  77 

On   the   29th   mst.   [July,    1703]   Daniel   Foe,  alias   De   Foe, 
stood   in   the   pillory  before  the   Royal   Exchange  in  London 
Cornhill,   as  he  did   yesterday  near  the   Conduit  in  j^fy  ^f' 
Cheapside,  and  this  day  at  Temple  Bar.  i7oa. 

Other  missiles    than   were   wont   to   greet   a  pillory   reached 
De  Foe  ;   and   shouts  of  a  different  temper.     His   health   was 
drunk  with  acclamations  as  he  stood  there,  and  noth-  j^^j^^^  ^^^.^ 
in"  harder  than   a   flower  was  flung   at  him.     '  The  te I's  l3io- 
people  were  expected  to  treat  me  very  ill,    lie  said.  Essays : 
'but  it  was  not  so.     On  the  contrary,  they  were  with 
me,  wished  those  who  had  set  me  there  were  placed  in  my  room, 
and   expressed  their  affection  by  loud  shouts  and   acclamations 
when  I  was  taken   down.' 

'  The  Great  Conduit  of  sweet  water '  was  at  the  Poultry 
end,  the  Little  Conduit  at  the  west  end,  of  Cheapside. 
Both  stood   in  the  middle  of  the  street. 

Shortly  after  his  release  from  prison  De  Foe  took  his 
family  to  Stoke  Newington. 

His  house  is  still  standing  [1845].     It  is  on  the  south  side 
of  Church   Street,  a  little  to  the  east  of  Lordship's  po^stei's 
Lane  or  Road,  and   has  about  four  acres  of  ground  Biographi- 

.  cal  hssays  : 

attached,  bounded  on  the  west  by  a  narrow  footway  De  Foe. 
(once,  if  not  still)  called  '  Cut-throat  Lane.' 

'Robinson  Crusoe,'  published  in  1719,  is  said  to  have 
been  written  in  this  house,  which  was  destroyed  in  1875, 
when  De  Foe  Street  was  cut  through  its  grounds. 

Sophia  De  Foe  was  baptized,  and  Daniel  De  Foe,  an 
infant,  was  buried,  in  Hackney  Church.  Both  were  children 
of  Daniel  De  Foe.  Old  Hackney  Church  was  taken  down 
in  1806,  and  only  the  tower  left  standing.   - 

De  Foe  died  on  the  24th  of  April,  1731,  in  the  parish  in 
which  he  was  born,  —  that  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate.  Forster 
says  :  — 

The  precise  place  of  De  Foe's  death  was  in  Rope  Makers'  Alley, 
Moorfields.     Of  this  fact  there   can  be  no  reasonable  doubt,  it 


78  THOMAS   DE   QUINCEY.  [1786-1859, 

Ix'inj,'  so  stated  in  the  '  Daily  Courant '  of  the  day  following  his 
death.  Rope  Makers'  Alley  no  longer  exists,  but  it  stood  opposite 
to  where  the  London  Institution  now  stands. 

The  London  Institution,  built  in  1816,  stood  in  1885  at 
Nos.  11  and  12  Finsbury  Circus.  Rope  Makers'  Alley,  as 
shown  on  an  old  map  of  that  portion  of  London  contained 
in  Noorthhonck's  '  History  of  London,'  and  published  in 
1772,  ran  from  Finsbury  Pavement  to  Grub  Street,  now 
Milton  Street,  and  seems  to  be  identical  with  the  Rope 
Makers'  Street  of  the  present.  Its  character  has  greatly 
changed  during  the  last  hundred  and  fifty  years. 

De  Foe  was  buried  in  the  neighboring  cemetery  of  Bunhill 
Fields;  where  stood,  in  1885,  a  granite  obelisk  with  an  in- 
scription stating  that  it  was  erected  in  1870  'By  the  Boys 
and  Girls  of  England  to  the  Memory  of  the  Author  of 
Robinson  Crusoe.' 


THOMAS   DE   QUINCEY. 

178&-1859. 

TT  was  late  in  November,  1802,  when  De  Quincey,  having 
■*■  run  away  from  school,  first  arrived  in  London.  He 
found  miserable  lodgings  in  Greek  Street  at  the  corner  ot 
Soho  Square,  and  for  some  time  lived  the  life  of  a  vagrant 
in  the  streets  and  in  the  parks.*^ 

He  bought  his  first  dose  of  opium  in  1804  at  a  chemist's 
shop  in  Oxford  Street  near  the  Pantheon,  which  was  num- 
bered 173  Oxford  Street  in  1885. 

In  1808  and  later,  he  lodged  in  Titchfield  Street,  Dean 
Street,  Soho,  and  in  Northumberland  Street,  Marylebone. 
About  the  same  time  he  entered  himself  as  a  student  in 
the  Middle  Temple. 


THOMAS    DE    QDINCEV. 


1812-1870.]  CHARLES   DICKENS.  79 

The  'Confessions  of  an  Opium  Eater'  were  written  in 
a  little  back-room  at  No.  4  York  Street,  Covent  Garden, 
on  the  premises  of  Mr.  Bohn,  the  book  dealer  and  publisher, 
where  De  Quincey  lived  a  comparatively  secluded  life  for 
some  time,  seeing  much,  however,  of  Hood,  Hogarth,  and  the 
Lambs.  Mr.  Bohn  retired  from  business  some  years  ago ; 
but  his  house  in  York  Street,  occupied  in  1885  by  a  publish- 
ing-firm, was  quite  unchanged. 


CHAELES   DICKENS. 

1812-1870. 

"DORN  at  Portsea,  Dickens  was  brought  to  London  as 
-*-^  a  child,  loved  London  as  only  London,  it  seems,  can 
be  loved,  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  busy  life  in  London, 
and  rests  now  among  London's  cherished  dead. 

In  Forster's  biography  we  can  follow  Dickens  from  street 
to  street  in  the  metropolis,  until  we  leave  him  in  the  Poets' 
Corner,  on  the  banks  of  that  Thames  he  knew  so  well. 
At  the  age  of  ten  he  was  lodging  in  Bayham  Street,  Cam- 
den Town.  '  A  washerwoman  lived  next  door,  and  a  Bow 
Street  officer  lived  over  the  way.'  The  life  and  the  sur- 
roundings there  wei'e  miserable  enough. 

The  family  then  moved  to  No.  4  North  Gower  Street 
(now  simply  Gower  Street),  on  the  east  side,  a  few  doors 
from  Francis  Street,  and  between  that  thoroughfare  and 
University  Street.  It  has  been  renumbered.  A  large  brass 
plate  on  the  door  told  to  the  world  that  this  was  '  Mrs. 
Dickens's  Establishment.'  Hero  they  remained  until  the 
elder  Dickens  was  carried,  like  Mr.  Dorrit,  to  the  Marshal- 


80  CHARLES  DICKENS.  [1812-1870. 

sea.  The  prisoner  was  lodged  '  in  the  top  story  but  one,' 
in  chambers  afterwards  occupied  by  the  Dorrits,  and  Charles 
for  a  time  ran  daily  to  visit  him  from  Gower  Street,  across 
the  town  and  the  river. 

That  certain  portions  of  the  Marshalsea  are  still  standing 
is  not  generally  known.  Indeed,  the  fact  was  not  known  to 
Dickens  himself  when  he  began  '  Little  Dorrit ; '  but  in  the 
Preface  to  that  story  he  gives  this  account  of  a  visit  to  it :  — 

I  found  the  outer  front  couit-y;ud  metamorphosed  into  a  but- 
ter shop  ;  and  I  then  almost  gave  up  every  brick  of  the  jail  for 
lost.  Wandering,  liowever  [from  the  Borough  High  Street,  a  few 
doors  from  the  Church  of  St.  George],  down  a  certain  adjacent 
'Angel  Court  leading  to  Bermondsey,'  I  came  to  '  Marshalsea 
Place;'  .  .  .  and  whosoever  goes  here  will  find  his  feet  on  the 
very  paving-stones  of  the  extinct  Marshalsea  jail, — will  see  its 
narrow  yard  to  the  right  and  to  the  left,  very  little  altered, 
if  at  all,  except  that  the  walls  were  lowered  when  the  place  got 
free,  —  will  look  upon  the  rooms  in  which  the  debtors  lived, 
and  will  stand  among  the  crowded  ghosts  of  many  miserable 
years. 

The  place  still  remained  in  1 885  as  Dickens  has  described 
it  f  and  the  associations  of  David  Copperfield  with  the  mel- 
ancholy spot  are  those  of  the  young  Charles  Dickens,  who 
knew  it  as  well  as  David  knew  it,  and  in  much  the  same 
way. 

Dr.  B.  E.  Martin,  in  his  admirable  paper  '  In  London 
with  Dickens'  (' Scribner's  Magazine,'  March,  1881),  tells 
how  little  is  left  of  the  early  homes  and  haunts  of  the  great 
novelist. 

The  blacking-warehouse  at  Old  Himgerford  Stairs,  Strand,  op- 
posite Old  Hungerford  Market,  in  which  he  tied  up  the  pots  of 
blacking,  has  long  since  been  torn  down.  That '  cra/y  old  house 
with  a  wharf  of  its  own,  abutting  on  the  water  when  the  tide  was 
in,  and  on  the  mud  when  the  tide  was  out,  and  literally  overrun 
with  rats,'  is  now  replaced  by  a   row  of  stone   buildings  ;   the 


1812-1870.]  CHARLES   DICKENS.  81 

embankment  has  risen  over  the  mud,  and  the  vast  Charing  Cross 
Station  stands  opposite,  on  the  site  of  the  Old  Hungerford  Market, 
and  of  '  The  Swan,  or  Swan  and  something  else,'  —  the  miserable 
old  public  where  he  used  to  get  his  bread  and  cheese  and  glass  of 
beer.  The  very  name  of  the  street  is  gone,  and  Villiers  Street 
has  sponged  out  the  memory  of  Hungerford  Stairs.  .  .  .  Indeed, 
it  is  no  longer  possible  to  find  any  of  the  places  he  mentions  in 
his  narrative  to  Forster.  .  .  .  Bayhani  Street,  where  he  lived,  is 
entirely  rebuilt. 

Durino;  the  residence  of  the  elder  Dickens  in  the  Mar- 
shalsea  his  son  found  lodgings  in  a  back  attic  in  Lant  Street 
Borough,  where  he  afterwards  placed  Bob  Sawyer.  '  It 's 
near  Guy's,  and  handy  for  me,  you  know.  Little  distance 
after  you  've  passed  St.  George's  Church,  —  turns  out  of  the 
High  Sti-eet  on  the  right-hand  side  the  way.'  Mr.  Sawyer 
does  not  give  the  number  in  asking  Mr.  Pickwick  and  '  the 
other  chaps '  to  the  famous  party  ;  but  Lant  Street  un- 
doubtedly still  stands  as  Mr.  Pickwick  found  it,  and  as  the 
vounjr  Dickens  knew  it  in   1822-24. 

It  is  a  by-street,  and  its  dulness  is  soothing.  A  house  in  Lant 
Street  would  not  come  within  the  denomination  of  a  lirst-rate 
residence,  in  the  strict  acceptance  of  the  term,  but  it  is  pickwick, 
a  most  desirable  spot,  nevertheless.  If  a  man  wished  ''''''^r-  ^'^'^• 
to  abstract  himself  from  the  world,  to  remove  himself  from 
within  the  reach  of  temptation,  to  place  himself  beyond  the 
possibility  of  any  inducement  to  look  out  of  the  window,  he 
should  by  all  means  go  to  Lant  Street. 

It  was  during  this  period  that  Dickens  ordered  the  'glass 
of  Genuine  Stunning  Ale,'  and  excited  the  sympathy  and 
won  the  motherly  kiss  of  the  publican's  wife,  so  pathetically 
told  in  'Copperfiekl'  In  a  private  letter,  late  in  life,  he 
declares  this  to  have  been  an  actual  experience,  and  that 
the  public  house  was  tlie  Red  Lion,  still  standing  in  1885 
on  the  northeast  corner  of  Derby  and  Parliament  Streets, 
Westminster. 


82  CHARLES   DICKENS.  [1812-1870. 

Of  the  many  lodging-house  homes  of  the  Dickenscs  there 
is  no  particular  reason  to  speak  here.  Little  that  is  inter- 
esting is  associated  with  them.  The  original  Mrs.  Pipchin 
was  his  landlady  in  Little  College  Street,  Camden  Town,  now 
College  Street,^"  between  Jeffreys  Street  and  King's  Road ; 
and  the  original  of  the  Marchioness  waited  on  the  family 
while  they  wei'e  in  the  Marshalsea." 

Dickens's  first  school  of  any  importance  was  described  by 
one  of  his  schoolfellows  in  1871,  as  still  standing  on  the 
corner  of  Granby  Street  and  the  Hampstead  Road,  in  its 
original  state,  although  the  school  playground  in  the  rear 
was  destroyed  on  the  formation  of  the  London  and  North- 
western Railway.  It  figures  in  one  of  his  papers  entitled 
'  Our  School,'  and  its  masters  suggested  Mr.  Creakle  and 
Mr.  Mell  of  Salem  House.  In  188.5  it  remained  compara- 
tively unchanged. 

Dickens  was  living  in  Furnival's  Inn,  Holborn,  when 
'  Pickwick '  was  conceived  and  written ;  here  was  -spent 
the  first  year  or  two  of  his  married  life,  and  here,  in  1837, 
his  eldest  son  was  born.  John  Westlock,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, lived   in   Furnival's   Inn. 

His  rooms  were  the  perfection  of  neatness  and  convenience, 
Chuzziewit,  ^t  ^^Y  I'^te  ;  and  if  he  were  anything  but  comfortable, 
chap.  xiv.       ^-^Q  fault  was  certainly  not  theirs. 

Perhaps  Dickens  thought  of  his  own  young  married  life, 
when  he  painted  sweet  Ruth  Pinch  looking  out  upon  the 
twilight  into  the  shady  quiet  place,  while  her  brother  was 
absorbed  in  music,  and  her  brother's  friend  stood  silently 
but  eloquently  by  her  side. 

In  March,  1837,  Dickens  took  his  little  family  to  No.  48 
Doughty  Street,  Mecklenburgh  Square,  —  a  house  still 
standing  in  1885, — where  he  remained  three  years,  and 
wrote  '  Oliver  Twist '  and  '  Nicholas  Nickleby.' 

Doughty  Street  runs  from  Mecklenburgh  Square  to  John 


CHARLES    DICKENS. 


1812-1870.]  CHARLES  DICKENS.  83 

Street,  a  quiet  retired  little  street,  cut  off,  at  the  John  Street 
end,  by  iron  gates,  which  are  only  opened  for  carts  and 
carriages  that  have  business  in  the  street  itself.  Tlie  prop- 
erty belongs  to  the  notorious  Tichborne  Estate,  and  by 
them  is  sacredly  held  as  No  Thoroughfare  to  the  general 
public. 

Late  in  the  year  1839  Dickens  removed  to  No.  1  Devon- 
shire Terrace,  Regent's  Park.  '  A  house  of  great  promise 
(and  great  premium),  undeniable  situation  and  excessive 
splendor,  is  in  view.'  Here  he  lived,  while  in  London,  until 
1851,  during  which  time  he  wrote,  in  the  order  named, 
'The  Curiosity  Shop,'  '  Barnaby  Rudge,'  'American  Notes,* 
'  Martin  Chnzzlewit,'  '  Christmas  Carol,'  '  The  Chimes,' 
'The  Cricket  on  the  Hearth,'  '  Dombey  and  Son,'  'The 
Battle  of  Life,'  '  The  Haunted  Man,'  and  '  David  Copper- 
field.'  A  drawing  of  the  Devonshire  Terrace  House,  by 
Maclise,  is  reproduced  in  the  third  volume  of  Forster's 
'  Life  of  Dickens.'  It  w^as  here  that  he  lost  by  death, 
in  1841,  the  raven  who  figures  in  'Barnaby  Rudge'  as 
'  Grip,'  and  whose  last  hours  he  so  beautifully  desci'ibed 
in  the  letter  now  preserved  in  the  Forstcr  Collection  at 
South  Kensington. 

Towards  eleven  o'clock  he  was  so  much  worse  that  it  was 
found  necessary  to  muffle  the  stable  knocker.  ...  On  the  clock 
striking  twelve  he  appeared  slightly  agitated  ;  but  he  soon  re- 
covered, walked  twice  or  thrice  along  the  coach-house,  stopped  to 
bark,  staggered,  exclaimed,  '  Helloa,  old  girl  ! '  (his  favorite 
expression),  and  died.  Kate  is  as  well  as  can  be  expected,  but 
terribly  low,  as  you  may  suppose.  The  children  seem  rather  glad 
of  it.     He  bit  their  ankles  ;  but  that  was  play. 

Devonshire  Terrace  consists  of  three  houses  at  the  north 
end  of  High  Street,  Marylebone.  No.  1,  in  1885,  was  a 
large  brick  mansion,  with  a  garden,  on  the  corner  of  Maryle- 
bone Road. 


84  CHARLES   DICKENS.  [1812-1870. 

Dickens  moved  to  Tavistock  House,  Tavistock  Square,  ip. 
October,   1851. 

In  Tavistock  Square  stands  Tavistock  House.  This  and  the 
strip  of  garden  in  front  of  it  are  shut  out  from  the  thoroughfare 

by  an  iron  railing.  A  large  garden  with  a  grass  jilat 
Christian       and  high  trees  stretches  behind  the  house,  and  gives  it  a 

countrified  look  in  the  midst  of  this  coal  and  gas  steam- 
ing London.  In  the  passage  from  street  to  garden  hung  pictures 
and  engravings.  Here  stood  a  marble  bust  of  Dickens,  so  like 
him,  so  youthful  and  handsome  ;  and  over  a  bedroom  door  and  a 
dining-room  door  were  inserted  the  bas-reliels  of  Night  and  Day, 
after  Thorwaldsen.  On  the  first  floor  was  a  rich  library  with  a 
fireplace  and  a  writing-table,  looking  out  on  the  garden  ;  and  here 
it  was  that  in  winter  Dickens  and  his  friends  acted  plays  to  the 
satisfaction  of  all  parties.  The  kitchen  was  underground,  and  at 
the  top  of  the  house  were  the  bedrooms.  I  had  a  snug  room 
looking  out  on  the  garden  ;  and  over  the  tree-tops  I  saw  the 
London  towers  and  spires  appear  or  disappear  as  the  weather 
cleared  or  thickened. 

In  Tavistock  House  Dickens  wrote  portions  of  '  Bleak 
House,'  'Hard  Times,'  'Little  Dorrit,'  and  the  'Tale  of 
Two  Cities.'  It  was  still  standing  in  1885,  and  occupied 
as  a  Jewish  College.  In  18G0  Dickens  removed  to  Gad's 
Hill  ;  and  he  never  afterwards  had  a  permanent  home  in 
London,  except  the  Chambers  at  No.  26  Wellington  Street, 
corner  of  York  Street,  Strand,  over  the  office  of  '  All  the 
Year  Round.' 

Dickens's  intimacy  with  his  biograjjher  naturally  led  him 
often  to  Forster's  house.  No.  58  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  which, 
as  Dr.  Martin  has  shown  us,  was  Tulkinghorn's  house  as 
well. 

Here  in  a  large  house,   formerly  a  house  of   State,  lives  Mr. 
Tulkiiighorn.     It  is  let  off  in  sets  of  chambers  now  ; 
House,  and  in  those  shrunken  fragments  of  its  greatness  law- 

chap.  X.         ^,^j.g  |.g^  |j|,g  maggots  in  nuts.     But  its  roomy  staircases, 


1812-1870.]  CHARLES    ]nc:KENS.  85 

passages,  and  ante-chambers  still  remain  ;  and  even  its  painted 
ceiling,  where  Allegory  in  Roman  helmet  and  Celestial  linen 
sprawls  among  balustrades  and  pillars,  flowers,  clouds  and  big- 
legged  boys,  and  makes  the  head  ache,  as  would  seem  to  be  Alle- 
gory's object  always,  more  or  less. 

This  house  was  standing  iu  1885,  little  changed  except 
that  Allegory  had  been  whitewashed  out  of  sight  by  later 
tenants.  It  was  in  this  house  that  on  the  2d  December, 
1844,  Dickens  read  'The  Chimes'  to  that  brilliant  com- 
pany of  his  friends,  as  described  by  Mi-.  Forster. 

An  occasion  rather  memorable,  in  which  was  the  germ  of 
those  readings  to  larger  audiences,  by  which,  as  nuich  Forstei's 

as  by  his  books,  the  world  knew  him  in  his  later  life,  Lifeof  Uick- 
''  -  '  _  '   ens,  vol.  11. 

but  of  which  no  detail  beyond  the  fact  remains  in  chap.  vii. 
my  memory  ;  and  all  are  dead  now  who  were  present  at  it,  ex- 
cepting only  Mr.  Carlyle  and  myself.  Among  those,  however, 
who  have  thus  passed  away,  was  one,  our  excellent  Maclise,  who, 
anticipating  the  advice  of  Captain  Cuttle,  had  '  made  a  note '  of  it  in 
pencil,  which  I  am  able  here  to  reproduce.  It  will  tell  the  reader 
all  he  could  wish  to  know.  He  will  see  of  whom  the  party  con- 
sisted, and  may  be  assured  that  in  the  grave  attention  of  Carlyle, 
the  eager  interest  of  Stanfield  and  Maclise,  the  keen  look  of  poor 
Laman  Blanchard,  Fox's  rapt  solemnity,  Jerrold's  .skyward  gaze, 
and  the  tears  of  Harness  and  Dyce,  the  characteristic  points  of 
the  scene  are  sufficiently  rendered. 

The  original  of  this  drawing  is  in  the  Forster  Collection  in 
the  Museum  of  South  Kensington  ;  and,  as  Dr.  Martin  says, — 

In  the  left-hand  corner  of  the  room  (as  sketched  by  Maclise) 
vou  shall  see  the  very  frescos  —  weii'd  figures  with  wav-  „    •, 

•'_  _      _•'  _       '^    _  SiTibner  s 

ing  arms  and  pointing  fingers  —  which  Dickens  placed  Ma,L;,T2ine, 

•  1  11         1        n^    ,  n-i    -11  ■      1  1         -T  March,  1881. 

With  such  ghostly  effect  on  lulkinghorns  ceilmg. 

The  last  home  of  Dickens  in  London  was  the  house  of 
Milner-Gibson,  No.  5  Hyde  Park  Place,  which  he  occupied 
for  a  few  months.  Writing  herefrom  to  James  T.  P^ields, 
January  14,  1870,  he  says  :  — 


86  BENJAMIN    DISKAELl.  [1804-1881. 

We  live  opposite  the  Murble  Arch,  in  a  charming  house  until 
Fields's  Yes-  the  1st  of  June,  and  then  return  to  Gad's  Hill.  .  .  . 
Authors" '"^ '  ^  ^^^VQ.  a  large  room  here  with  three  fine  windows 
Dickens.  overlooking  the  Park,  unsurpassable  tor  airiness  and 
cheerfulness. 

Several  numbers  of  '  Edvviu  Drood '  were  written  in  this 
house,  which  was  unaltered  in  1885. 

Dickens  died,  June  9,  1870,  at  Gad's  Hill,  and  was  buried, 
June  14,  in  the  Poets'  Corner,  Westminster  Abbey.- 

Close  under  the  bust  of  Thackeray  lies  Charles  Dickens,  not, 
it  may  be,  his  equal  in  humor,  but  more  than  his  equal  in  his 
Dean  Stan-  liold  on  the  popular  mind,  as  was  shown  in  the  intense 
ley's  West-     and   general   enthusiasm   shown   at   his  grave.      The 

minster  °  ° 

Abbey.  funeral,   according   to    Dickens's  urgent   and  express 

desire  in  his  will,  was  strictly  private.  It  took  place  at  an 
early  hour  in  the  summer  morning,  the  grave  having  been  dug 
in  secret  the  night  before  ;  and  the  vast  solitary  space  of  the 
Abbey  was  occupied  only  by  the  small  band  of  mourners,  and  the 
Abbey  Clergy,  wlio,  without  anj^  music  except  the  occasional  peal 
of  the  organ,  read  the  funeral  service.  For  days  the  spot  was 
visited  by  thousands ;  many  were  the  flowers  strewn  upon  it  by 
unknown  hands ;  many  were  the  tears  shed  by  the  poorer  visitors. 
He  rests  beside  Sheridan,  Garrick,  and  Henderson. 


BENJAMIN   DISKAELl. 

1804-1881. 

'  I  ''HE  registry  of  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese  Jewish  Syna- 
gogue.  No.  10  Bevis  Marks,  proves  the  younger  Dis- 
raeli to  have  been  born  December  21,  1804,  although  the 
residence  of  his  father  at  that  time  is  not  given,  and  it  is 
very  difficult  to  determine  now  the  place  of  his  birth.  It  was, 
according  to  the  various  biographers,  at  Hackney,  Islington, 


BENJAMIN    DISRAELI. 


i804-1881.]  BENJAMIN   DISRAELI.  87 

St.  .Mary  Axe,  and  Bloomsbury  Square,  and  it  is  even  said 
that  Lord  Beaconsfield  himself  once  told  a  friend  that  he 
was  born  in  a  library  in  the  Adelphi.  It  would  seem,  how- 
ever, that  Islington  has  the  strongest  claim  to  the  distinc- 
tion ;  and  Dr.  John  B.  Jeaflreson,  in  a  letter  to  the  London 
'  Standard,'  in  1881,  says  that  the  D'Israelis  were  living  in 
1803  behind  Canonbury  Tower  (see  Goldsmith),  that  while 
this  house  was  undergoing  repairs  they  lived  for  a  twelve- 
month next  door  to  Dr.  Jeaflreson  (grandfather  of  this  writer), 
in  Trinity  Row,  and  that  Benjamin  Disraeli  was  unexpectedly 
born  there,  Dr.  Jeaffreson  being  the  medical  attendant. 

Dr.  B.  E.  Martin,  who  has  in  many  ways  shown  his  in- 
terest in  this  work,  and  who  has  been  of  the  greatest  assist- 
ance in  its  production,  has  learned  by  personal  inquiry  that 
the  members  of  the  Jeaffreson  family  who  were  contempo- 
raries of  Benjamin  Disraeli,  and  who  were  his  playmates  iu 
infancy,  always  believed  him  to  have  been  the  child  born  iu 
Trinity  Row  while  his  father  was  their  immediate  neighbor, 
although  there  is  no  absolute  proof  that  such  was  the  case. 
The  name  of  D'Israeli  does  not  appear  in  the  London  direc-  - 
tories  of  1804. 

This  Trinity  Row  house,  still  standing  in  1885,  but  known 
as  No.  21.5  Upper  Street,  Islington,  and  occupied  on  its  lower 
floor  by  shops,  is  remembered  as  having  been  '  a  well  look- 
ing dwelling '  in  the  early  part  of  this  century,  its  front 
windows  commanding  a  view  of  Canonbury  Fields,  and  its 
back  windows  overlooking  its  own  moderately  extensive 
grounds. 

Benjamin  Disraeli  was  baptized  in  the  Church  of  St.  An- 
drew, Holborn,  July  13,  1817,  and  in  the  registry  there  is 
described  as  '  From  King's  Road,  and  said  to  be  about 
twelve  years  of  age.'  The  elder  D'Israeli  is  known  to  have 
occupied,  at  that  time,  the  house  in  King's  Road,  next  to  the 
corner  of  John  Street,  and  left  unchanged  in   1885  except 


88  BENJAMIN   DISRAELI.  [1804-1881. 

that  it  was  then  known  as  No.  22  Theobald's  Road.  King's 
Road  ran  from  Gi-ay's  Inn  Road  to  Bedford  Row,  north  of 
Gray's  Inn  Gardens.  Dr.  Martin  discovered  from  the  rate- 
books that  Isaac  D'IsraeU  paid  rates  from  1817  to  1829  on 
the  house  on  the  corner  of  Hart  Street  and  Bloomsbury 
Square,  numbered  then  G  Bloomsbury  Square,  but  since 
changed  to  No.  5.  The  house  now  No.  G  Bloomsbury 
Square,  and  generally  supposed  to  have  been  the  home  of 
the  D'Israelis,  was  then  No.  6  A  or  6|.  All  this  is  proved 
by  the  records  of  the  Bedford  Estate,  in  which  Bloomsbury 
Square  lies,-  as  well  as  by  statements  of  residents  of  the 
house  for  many  years.  Benjamin,  therefore,  was  at  least 
twelve  yea-rs  of  age  when  his  father  went  to  Bloomsbury 
Square  ;  and  the  following  account  of  his  '  visit  to  the  room 
in  which  he  was  born'  must  be  considered  in  the  light  of 
romance.     The  house  was  left  unaltered  in  1885. 

Montagu  Cony  (Lord  Rowton)  tuld  me  that  not  long  ago 
Lord  Beaconsfield  visited  the  house  [in  Bloomsbury  Square]  and 
8  c  Hall's  ^^^^^  leave  to  go  over  it,  which  was  granted,  although 
Retrospect  the  attendant  had  no  idea  that  the  courtesy  was  ex- 
Life  :  Bea-  tended  to  the  Prime  Minister.  He  sat  for  some  time 
pondering  and  reflecting  —  a  grand  past  and  a  great 
future  opening  before  his  mental  vision  —  in  the  room  in  which 
he  was  born.  Once  I  met  the  two,  great  father  and  greater  son, 
at  one  of  the  receptions  of  Lady  Blessington.  It  is  certain  that 
from  the  first  to  the  last  no  parent  ever  received  more  grateful 
respect  or  more  enduring  aff"ection  from  a  child  ;  and  I  w^ell  re- 
member that  on  the  evening  to  which  I  refer,  the  devotion  of 
Benjamin  Disraeli  to  Isaac  D'Israeli,  specially  noticed  by  all 
who  were  present,  was  classed  among  the  admiral^le  traits  of  the 
after  Prime  Minister. 

A  writer  in  '  Punch '  shortly  after  the  death  of  Lord  Bea- 
constield  says  that  he  went  to  a  dame's  school  in  Colebrook 
Row,  Islington,  kept  by  a  Miss  Palmer ;  and  he  is  known  to 
have  been  a   pupil  of  an  academy  since  called  Essex  Hall 


1766-1848.]  ISAAC  D'ISRAELI.  89 

on  Highara  Hill,  Walthamstow,  Essex,  six  miles  from  town, 
where  his  desk  and  room,  w^ere  carefully  jjreserved  many 
years  later.  When  a  very  young  man,  Disraeli  spent  a  year 
or  two  as  a  clerk  in  a  solicitor's  office  in  the  City,  some- 
where in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Old  Jewry ;  but  his  home 
was  generally  in  his  father's  family,  in  town  or  in  Bucking- 
hamshire, until  his  marriage  with  Mrs.  Lewis  in  1839,  when 
he  took  possession  of  her  house.  No.  1  Grosvenor  Gate, 
corner  of  Park  Lane  and  Upper  Grosvenor  Street.  Here 
he  lived  nntil  her  death  in  1872.  This  house  was  still 
standing  in   1885. 

In  1873  Disraeli  moved  to  No.  2  Whitehall  Gardens;  and 
in  1881  he  died  at  No.  19  Curzon  Street,  May  fair,  facing 
South  Audley  Street. 


ISAAC   D'ISRAELI. 

1766-1848. 

'"pHE  only  home  of  Isaac  D'Isracli's  youth  was  his  fother's 
-*-  house  at  Enfield,  where  he  was  born,  and  where  he 
remained  until  his  marriage.  The  site  of  this  house  is 
unknown  to  the  local  historians  ;  Init  Foi'd,  in  his  '  Enfield,' 
believes  it  to  have  been  on  the  ground  since  occupied  by 
the  terminus  of  the  Great  Eastern   Railway. 

As  a  young  man  D'Israeli  came  now  and  then  to  London 
to  read  the  newspapers  in  the  St.  James's  Coffee  House  in 
St.  James's  Street  (see  Addison,  p.  7) ;  and  he  spent  many 
hours  in  the  Reading  Room  of  the  British  Museum.  In 
the  '  Memoirs  of  the  Elder  D'Israeli  by  his  Son '  the  follow- 
ing story  is  told  :  — 

My  father,   who  had  lost  the  timidity  of  his  childhood,  who 
by  nature  was  verv  impulsive,  and  indeed  endowed  with  a  degree 
9 


90  MICHAEL   DliAYTON.  [1563-1631. 

of  volubility  which  is  only  witnessed  in  the  soutli  of  France,  and 
which  never  deserted  him  to  his  last  hour,  was  no  longer  to  be 
controlled.  His  conduct  was  decisive.  He  enclosed  his  poem 
to  Dr.  Johnson  with  an  impassioned  statement  of  his  case,  com- 
plaining, which  he  ever  did,  that  he  had  never  found  a  counsellor 
or  literary  friend.  He  left  his  packet  himself  at  Bolt  Court  [see 
Johnson],  where  he  was  received  by  Mr.  Francis  Barber,  the  doc- 
tor's well-known  black  servant,  and  told  to  call  in  a  week.  Be 
sure  that  he  was  very  punctual ;  but  the  packet  was  returned 
to  him  unopened,  with  a  message  that  the  illustrious  doctor  was 
too  ill  to  read  anytliing.  The  unhappy  and  obscure  aspirant 
who  received  this  disheartening  message  accepted  it,  in  his  utter 
despondency,  as  a  mechanical  excuse.  But,  alas  !  the  cause  was 
too  true  ;  and  a  few  weeks  after  the  great  soul  of  Johnson  quitted 
earth. 

The  various  homes  of  the  elder  D'Israeli  are  described  in 
the  preceding  paper  (see  the  younger  Disraeli,  pp.  86-89). 

In  Bloomsbury  Square  he  wrote  '  The  Curiosities  of 
Literature,'  and  kindred  works,  and  remained  until  he  took 
his  family  in  1825  to  Bradenham  House,  B\ickinghamshire, 
where  he  died  in  1848.  A  letter  of  his  was  written  to  the 
CoTintess  of  Blessington,  but  without  date,  from  No.  1  St. 
James's  Place,  St.  James's  Street;  and  in  1835  both  father 
and  son  were  at  No.  31  A,.  Park  Street,  Grosvenor  Square, 
near  the  corner  of  King  Street,  and  next  door  to  the  White 
Bear  public  house.     This  street  has  been  renumbered. 


MICHAEL  DEAYTON. 

1563-1631. 

T  T  is  not  now  known  when  or  under  what  circumstances 

Drayton  first  saw  London;  and  nothing  is  to  be  gathered 

concerning    his  career    here    from    the    occasional    personal 


MICHAEL   DRAYTON. 


1631-1700.]  JOHN   DRYDEN.  91 

allusions  scattered  throughout  his  poems.  According  to 
Aubrey  he  '  lived  at  ye  bay-windowe  house  next  the  east 
end  of  St.  Dunstan's  Church  in  Fleet  Street.'  This  house, 
numbered  186  Fleet  Street,  was  standing  in  1885,  altered 
and  restored ;  but  its  next-door  neighbor  city-wards  still 
showed  what  was  its  appearance  when  Drayton  occupied  it, 
and  published  in  1608  an  edition  of  his  'Poems'  'at  the 
Shop  of  John  Smithwick,  St.  Dunstan's  Church  Yard  under 
the  Diall.'  This  churchyard,  facing  Fleet  Street,  was  the 
Paternoster  Row  of  that  day,  and  much  frequented  by  book- 
sellers. 

Drayton  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,  according  to 
Fuller  'in  the  south  aisle  near  to  Chaucer's  grave  and 
Spenser's,  where  his  monument  stands ; '  but  Dean  Stanley 
believes  that  he  lies  near  the  small  north  door  of  the  nave. 
Mr.  Marshall,  the  stonecutter  in  Fetter  Lane,  told  Aubrey 
that  the  lines  on  his  'pious  marble  were  writ  by  Francis 
Quarles,  a  very  good  man.'  They  declare  that  his  name 
cannot  fade  ;  and  yet  when  Goldsmith  read  them,  a  century 
later,  he  confessed  that  he  had  never  heard  the  name 
before. 


JOHJT  DRYDEN. 

lesi-ivoo. 

T^RYDEN  was  a  pupil  of  Dr.  Busby  at  Westminster 
^^  School  (see  Churchill,  p.  51),  whei-e  is  still  carefully 
preserved  the  old  form  upon  which,  in  long  sprawling  school- 
boyish  letters,  is  the  name  I  Dryden,  carved  by  his  own 
hands.  He  distinguished  himself  there  as  a  juvenile  poet, 
and  won  a  scholarship  to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 


92  JOHN   DKYDEN.  [1631-1700. 

According  to  Maloiie,  he  retui'iied  to  London  in  1G57, 
when  Scott  believes  that  he  lodged  witli  llerringman  the 
bookseller,  in  the  then  New  Exchange,  destroyed  in  1737. 
Scott  also  throws  doubt  upon  the  stories  of  Dryden's  dining 
at  a  '  threepenny  ordinary  '  and  being  '  clad  in  homely  drug- 
get,' as  asserted  by  Shadwell  and  others.  His  circumstances 
were  certainly  better  than  his  earlier  biographers  would 
have  us  believe,  when  he  married  the  daughter  of  the  Earl 
of  Berkshire  a  few  years  later. 

The  (late  of   Dryden's    marriage    eluded    iiK|umes  of   Maloiie 

and   Scott.      He   was    married    by   license    in    the   Church    of 

St.    Swithiii,    by   London    Stone    (as  appears  by   the 

Peter  Ouii-  register  of  that  Church),  on  the  1st  December,  1663. 
ningliaiii,  „,,  ,■     ^        ^^  i  •   i     •       i         i    /     i   •  -kt 

Johnson's  1  he  entry  01  the  license,  which  is  dated  'ultimo  JSlo- 
Poets"'^^^  vembis,'  1663,  and  is  in  the  office  of  the  Vicar-General 
Dryden.  gf  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  describes  him  as  a 

parishioner  of  St.  Clement  Danes  of  abtnit  the  age  of  thirty,  and 
the  Lady  Elizabeth  [Howard]  as  twenty-five  and  of  the  parish 
of  St.  Martin-in-the-Fields.  The  poet's  signature  to  the  entry 
is  written  '  Driden.' 

Scott  gives  the  date  of  this  marriage  as  1665.  The 
Church  of  St.  Swithin,  Cannon  Street,  was  destroyed  in 
the  Great  Fire  of  1666,   but  rebuilt  by  Wren. 

Peter  Cunningham,  with  his  usual  care,  in  his  '  Explana- 
tory Notes  to  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets,'  traces  Dry- 
den to  his  different  London  homes,  and  shows  that  '  he 
lived  from  1673  to  1682  in  the  Parish  of  St.  Bride's,  Fleet 
Street,  on  the  water  side  of  the  street,  in  or  near  Salisbury 
Court  (Rate  Booke  of  St.  Bride's,  Fleet  Street) ;  and  from 
1682  to  1686  in  a  house  on  the  north  side  of  Long  Acre 
facing  Rose  Street.' 

The  Dryden  Press,  founded  a  century  and  a  half  ago, 
stood  in  188.5  at  No.  137  Long  Acre,  and  marked  the  site 
of  Drj^den's  house  there. 

There  is  a  tradition   that  Dryden  lived   once   in   Fetter 


N>r>: 


JOHN    DUYDEN. 


1631-1700.]  JOHN   DRYDEN.  93 

Lane,  where  Otway  was  his  neighbor  ;  but  the  only  authority 
for  this  is  a  mythical  story  of  a  combat  of  wit  between  him 
and  Otway  (see  Otway),  and  the  existence,  as  late  as  1885, 
of  a  curious  old  tablet  upon  the  quaint  little  house  at  No. 
16  Fetter  Lane,  over  Fleur-de-lys  Court.^  No  record  of  his 
occupancy  of  this  house  is  to  be  found  in  any  of  the  biogra- 
phies of  Dryden,  nor,  it  is  said,  in  the  parish  books.  By 
whom  and  when  the  stone  was  placed  there  is  not  now 
known.     Its  inscription  reads  :  — 

Here  liv'd 

John  Dryden 

Ye  poet, 

Born  1631  — Died  1700 

Glorious  John  ! 

Dryden  removed  to  his  last  London  home,  Gerard  Street, 
Soho,  in  1686. 

Dryden's  house  .  .  .  was  the  fifth  on   the  left  hand  coming 

from    Little    Newport    Street.      The   back   windows  „ 

'■  Scott's 


looked  upon  the  gardens  of  Leicester  House,  of  which  Dryden, 
circumstance  our  poet  availed  himsel 
some  compliment  to  the  noble  owner. 


'  circumstance  our  poet  availed  himself  to  pay  a  hand-  °  ^^^'  ■^"' 


This  house,  No.  43  Gerard  Street,  has  been  marked  by 
the  tablet  of  the  Society  of  Arts,  The  gardens  in  its  rear 
have  long  since  disappeared. 

One  day,  Mr.  Rogers  took  Mr.  Moore  and  my  father  [Sydney 
Smith]  home  in  his  carriage,  and  insisted  on  showing  them  by  the 
way  Dryden's  house,  in  some  obscure  street.     It  was 
very   wet ;    the  house    looked   much   like  other   old  land's  Me- 
houses,  and   having  thin    shoes  on  they  both  lemon-  Rev  gydney 
strated,  but  in  vain.     Rogers  got   out,  and  stood  ex-  Smith, 

chap.  IX. 

pecting  them.     '  Ah,  vou  see  why  Rogers  don't  mind 
getting  out,'  exclaimed  my  father,  laughing  and  leaning  out  o± 
the  carriage  ;  '  he  has  got  goloshes  on  :  but,  Rogers,  lend  us  each 
a  golosh,  and  we  will  then  stand  on  orje  leg  and  admire  as  Jong 
as  you  please. 


94  JOILN    DliVDEN.  [1(331-1700. 

Drydeu  died  at  No.  43  Gerard  Street,  May  1,  1700. 

His  i'auiily  were  preparing  to  bury  him  with  the  decency  be- 
coming their  limited  circumstances,  when  Charles  Montague,  Lord 
Jeffreys,  and  other  men  of  cpiality  made  a  suT)scription 
Diyileii,  for  a  public  funeral.     The  body  of  the  poet  was  then 

^  '"  '  removed  to  the  I'liysiciaus'  Hall  [now  destroyed;  it 
stood  on  tlu;  west  side  of  Warwick  Lane,  Paternoster  Row],  where 
it  was  eml)almed,  and  lay  in  state  till  the  13th  day  of  May,  twelve 
days  after  his  decease.  Oil  that  day  the  celebrated  Dr.  Uarth  pro- 
nounced a  Latin  oration  over  the  remains  of  his  departed  friend, 
wliii'h  were  then  with  considerable  state,  preceded  by  a  band  of 
music  and  attended  by  a  numerous  procession  of  carriages,  trans- 
ported to  Westminster  Abbey,  and  deposited  between  the  graves 
of  Chaucer  and  Cowley. 

Johnsou,  ill  his  'Lives  of  the  Poets,'  quotes  from  a  'Life 
of  Congreve,'  printed  iu  1730,  which  on  the  titlepage  is  said 
to  contain  'some  very  curious  Memories  of  Mr.  Dryden  and 
His  Family,'  a  remarkable  account  of  Dryden's  funeral  and 
of  a  practical  joke  played  by  Lord  Jeffreys  upon  the  mourn- 
ing friends,  which  appears  to  have  no  foundation  in  fact, 
although  it  has  been  often  repeated.  From  this  statement* 
it  would  seem  that  Dr.  Garth  -^— 

finished  his  oration  with  a  superior  grace,  to  the  loud  acclama- 
tions of  mirth  which  inspired  the  mixed,  or  rather  7>io6,  auditors. 
The  procession  began  to  move  ;  a  numerous  train  of  coaches  at- 
tended the  hearse,  but,  good  God  !  in  what  disorder  can  only  be 
expressed  by  a  sixpenny  pamphlet  soon  after  published,  entitled 
'  Dryden's  Funeral.'  At  last  the  corpse  arrived  at  the  Abbey, 
which  was  all  uidighted.  No  organ  played ;  no  anthem  sung ; 
only  two  of  the  singing  boys  preceded  the  corpse,  who  sung  an 
Ode  of  Horace,  Avith  each  a  small  candle  in  his  hand.  The  butch- 
ers and  other  mob  broke  in  like  a  deluge,  so  that  only  about 
eight  or  ten  gentlemen  could  get  admission,  and  those  forced 
to  cut  their  way  with  their  swords  drawn.  The  coffin  in  this 
disorder  was  let  down  into  Chaucer's  grave,  with  as  much  confu- 
sion and  as  little  ceremony  as  was  possible,  every  one  glad  to  save 
themselves  from  the  •fentlemeii's  swords  or  the  clubs  of  the  mob. 


1631-1700.]  JOHN   DRYDEX.  95 

Drydeu  was  a  frequenter  of  Will's  Coffee  House  in  Bow 
Street  (see  Addison,  p.  7),  where,  after  his  two-o'clock  din- 
ner, he  was  in  the  habit  of  going  and  occupying  his  estab- 
lished chair,  his  right  to  which  no  man  was  bold  enough  to 
dispute.  It  was  placed  by  the  window  in  summer,  by  the 
tire  in  winter;  and  from  it  he  pronounced  his  opinions  of  men 
and  books,  surrounded  by  his  crowd  of  admiring  listeners, 
who  pretended  to  agree  with  him,  whether  they  did  or  not. 

Dryden's  mixture  of  simplicity,  good-nature,  and  good  opinion 
of  himself  is  here  seen  in  a  very  agreeable  manner.     It  must  not 
be  omitted  that  it  was  to  this  house  [Will's]  Pope  was  jjuut's  The 
taken  when  a  boy,  by  his  own  desire,  on  purpose  to  get  Town, 
a  sight  of  the  great  man,  which  he  did.     According  to 
Pope,  he  was  plump,  w'ith  a  fresh  color,  and  a  down  look,  and  not 
very  conversible.     It  appears,  however,  that  what  he  did  say  was 
much  to  the  purpose  ;  and  a  contemporary  mentions  his  conver- 
sation on  that  account  as  one  of  the  few  things  for  which  the  town 
was  desirable.     He  was  a  temperate  man,  though  he  drank  with 
Addison  a  great  deal  more  than  he  used  to  do,  probably  so  far  as 
to  hasten  his  end. 

In  Covent  Garden  to-night,  going  to   fetch  home  my  wife,  I 
stopped  at  the  great  Coffee  House  there  [Will's],  where  I  never  was 
before,  where  were  Dryden,  the  poet,  I  knew  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  all  the  Wits  of  the  town,  and  Harris  the  01^17,^-01. 
player  [Joseph  Harris],  and  Mr.  Hoole  of  our  College,  i^'j!^!;"^^'^' 
And  had  I  had  time  then  or  could  nt  other  times,  it 
will  be  good  coming  thither,  for  there,  I  perceive,  is  very  witty 
and  pleasant  discourse.     But  I  could  not  tarry,  and  as  it  was  late, 
they  were  all  ready  to  go  away. 

One  of  the  most  uncomfortable  of  Dryden's  London  exjje- 
riences  was  the  severe  beating  he  received  one  night  in  1679 
in  Piose  Street,  Covent  Garden,  after  he  had  left  Will's. 
Although  a  reward  of  fifty  pounds  was  offered  for  '  the  per- 
petrators of  the  outrage,'  they  were  never  legally  punished. 
There  seems   to  be   no   question,   however,   that    Rochester 


96  TOM   D'LKFEV.  [16- -1723. 

instigated  the  deed,  enraged  by  a  satire  which  he  attributed 
to  Drydeu,  but  which  was  written  by  another  num.  Hose 
Street,  running  from  No.  11  Long  Acre  to  No.  2  Garrick 
Street  at  its  junction  with  King  Street,  has  been  greatly 
changed  since  Drydeu's  adventures  there,  although  one  or 
two  old  buildings  still  standing  in  the  crooked,  miserable 
little  street  in  1885  were  no  doubt  witnesses  of  the  memo- 
rable assault.  A  modern  tavern  bearing  the  old-fashioned 
name  of  The  Lamb  and  Flag  was  built  about  1880  in  Hose 
Street,  facing  Garrick  Street. 

Dryden  was  fond  of  the  mulberry  tarts  that  were  in  his 
day  a  specialty  of  the  Mulberry  Gardens,  upon  the  site  of 
which  Buckingham  Palace  was  built. 


TOM   D'URFEY. 

16 1723. 


f~\F  Tom  D'lJrfey's  career  in  London  or  elsewhere  almost 
^^  nothing  is  known  except  what  is  contained  in  No.  G7 
of  the  'Guardian'  (Thursday,  May  28,  1713),  when  Mr. 
Addison,  under  a  text  from  Horace,  '  Blush  not  to  patronize 
the  Muse's  skill,'  makes  a  plea  for  help  for  D'Urfey  in  his 
impoverished  old  age,  on  the  ground  that  he  had  '  enriched 
our  language  with  a  midtitude  of  rhymes,  and  bringing 
words  together,  that  without  his  good  offices  would  never 
have  been  acquainted  with  one  another,  so  long  as  it  had 
been  a  tongue  ; '  and  adds  that  his  old  friend  '  angles  for 
a  trout  the  best  of  any  man  in  England  : '  surely  reason 
enough  for  his  meriting  the  charity  of  his  fellow-men. 
From  this  paper  it  would  seem  that  he  was  a  most  agreeable 
companion  ;  that  Charles  II.  had  been  seen  leaning  on  his 


1819-1880.]       MARY   ANN  EVANS   (GEORGE   ELIOT).         97 

shoulder  more  than  once,  humming  over  a  song  with  him  ; 
and  that  many  an  honest  country  gentleman  had  gained  a 
reputation  in  his  own  county  by  pretending  to  have  been  in 
company  with  Tom  D'Urfey  in  town.  After  having  written 
more  odes  than  Horace,  and  about  four  times  as  many  com- 
edies as  Terence,  he  was,  when  Addison  found  him  in  1713, 
in  great  difficulties.  He  lived,  however,  ten  years  longer, 
and  continued  to  write  until  his  death,  in  172.3.  The  time 
of  his  birth  is  unknown.  He  was  buried  in  St.  James's 
Church,  Piccadilly,  where  is  a  tablet  to  his  memory,  said 
to  have  been  erected  by  Sir  Eichard  Steele.  It  contains 
simply  his  name  and  the  date  of  his  death,  and  is  on  the 
south  wall  of  the  church,  on  the  outside,  under  the  clock 
tower  and  nearly  opposite  the  little  door  leading  from 
Jermyn  Street  to  the  disused  graveyard.  Like  so  many 
objects  of  interest  in  London,  it  is  entirely  concealed  from 
the  public  by  an  unsightly  and  unnecessary  high  brick 
wall. 

D'Urfey  is  said  to  have  found  the  suggestions  for  his 
'  Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy  '  at  a  convivial  meeting  held  at 
the  Queen's  Arms  Tavern,  New^gate  Street.  This  inn  was 
standing  until  within  a  few  years  at  No.  70  Newgate  Street. 
It  had  an  entrance  on  St.  Martin's-le-Grand.  The  New  Post- 
Office  buildings  were  erected  on  its  site. 


MAKY   ANN   EVANS   (GEOEGE  ELIOT). 

1819-1880. 

'  /^EORGE  ELIOT'  came   to  London  in  1851,  and  for 

^-^   two  years  made  her  home  with  the  Chapmans  at  No. 

142  Strand,  near  Wellington  Street,  —  a  house  rich  in  the 


98  :S\\K\   ANN   EVANS   (GEORGE   ELIOT).     [1819-1880 

literaiy   associations  of  two    centuries.     A  tourist's    ticket 
office  in   1885,  it  was,  in  the  days  of  Dr.  Johnson,  the  fa- 
mous Turk's   Head  Cortec    House,    frequented  by  so  many 
distinguished  men  (see  l)ii.  .Johnson). 

While  living  here,  jSIiss  Evans  wrote  a  number  of  essays 
for  the  '  Westminster  Keview,'  besides  doing  editorial  work  ; 
and  here  she  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  George  Henry 
Lewes  and  many  of  the  literary  lights  of  her  time. 

Lewes  and  Miss  Evans  lived  for  a  while  at  No.  16  Bland- 
ford  Square,  where  she  wrote,  among  other  books,  '  Komola' 
and  '  Felix  Holt,'  in  a  quiet  old-fashioned  house  not  far  from 
Kegent's  Park,  and  still  standing  in  1885,  hardly  changed 
since  her  occupation  of  it.  The  Priory,  No.  21  North 
Bank,  St.  John's  Wood,  to  which  they  removed  in  1865,  and 
where  they  remained  until  Lewes  died,  in  1878,  was  some- 
what altered  by  a  later  tenant,  who  enlarged  and  beauti- 
fied it.  It  was  in  1885  one  of  the  characteristic  villas  of 
that  characteristic  locality,  plain,  substantial,  and  in  grounds 
of  its  own,  shut  out  completely  from  the  gaze  of  the 
passer-by. 

Here,   in   the    pleasant    dwelling-rooms    decorated   by   Owen 

Jones,  might  be  met,  at  her  Sunday  afternoon  receptions,  some 

of  the  most  eminent  men  in  literature,  art,  and  science. 

Blind's^''        For   the   rest  her  life   flowed   on  its   even  tenor,  its 

George  Eliot:  routine  bein<'  rigidly  regular.     The  morning  till  luncli 

Famous  o      a       j       o  ^  ^  r> 

Women  time  was  invariably  devoted  to  writing  ;  in  the  after- 

noon she  either  went  out  for  a  quiet  drive  of  about  two 
hours,  or  she  took  a  walk  with  Lewes  in  Regent's  Park.  There 
the  strange-looking  couple  —  she  with  a  certain  sibylline  air,  he 
not  unlike  some  unkempt  Polish  refugee  of  vivacious  manners  — 
might  be  seen  swinging  their  arm.s,  as  they  hurried  along  at  a  pace 
as  rajiitl  as  their  talk. 

George   Willis  Cooke,   in    his    'George  Eliot'  (chap.    v. 
p.  79),  thus  describes  '  The  Priory  ' :  — 


GEORGE    ELIOT. 
Drawn  by  Mr.  Frederic  Burton. — From  an  Etching  by  M.  P-iul  Rajon. 


1819-1880.]       MARY  ANN  EVANS   (GEORGE  ELIOT).         99 

Within,  all  was  refinement  and  good  taste  ;  there  were  flowers 
in  the  windows,  the  furniture  was  plain  and  substantial,  while 
great  simplicity  reigned  supreme.  Tlie  house  had  two  stories  and 
a  basement.  On  the  first  tioor  were  two  drawing-rooms,  a  small 
reception  room,  a  dining-room,  and  Mr.  Lewesis  study.  .  .  The 
second  floor  contained  the  study  of  George  Eliot,  which  was  a 
plain  room,  not  large.  Its  two  front  windows  looked  into  the 
warden,  and  there  were  bookcases  around  the  walls,  and  a  writing- 
desk.  All  things  about  the  house  indicated  simple  tastes,  mod- 
erate needs,  and  a  plain  method  of  life. 

'Geortre  Eliot'  was  married  to  John  Walter  Cross  at 'St. 
George's  Church,  Hanover  Square,  May  6,  1880,  but  died 
in  her  husband's  house,  No.  4  Cheyne  Row,  Chelsea,  De- 
cember 22  of  the  same  year,  and  was  buried  in  Highgate 
Cemetery. 

The  grave,  in  the  new  portion  of  the  cemetery  overlooking 
London,  is  covered  by  a  plain  gray  granite  shaft  bearing  the 
following  simple  inscription  :  — 

'  Of  those  immortal  dead  who  still  live  on 
in  miuds  made  better  by  their  presence. 
Here  Lies  The  Botly 
of 
'George  EUot' 
Mary  Ann  Cross. 
Born  22nd  November,  1819 
Died  22nd  December,  1880. 
10 


100  JOHN  EVELYN.  [1620-1706. 


JOHN  EVELYN. 

1620-1706. 

"C^VELYN'S    eai-liest  recorded  associations  with    London 
-■— '    are  of  the  IMiddle  Temple. 

I  repaired  with  my  brother  to  the  Tearrae  to  goe  into  the 
new  lodgings  (that  were  formerly  in  Essex  Court),  being  a  very 
Evelyn's  handsome  apartment  just  over  against  the  Hall  Court, 
Diary,  1640.  |J^^.  f^^^^j.  payre  of  stayres  high,  w'ch  gave  us  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  fairer  prospect. 

Evelyn  was  married  in  1647;  and  an  entry  in  his  Diary, 
the  next  year,  shows  him  to  have  been  then  a  resident  of 
Sayes  Court,  Deptford,  which  came  to  him  through  his  wife, 
and  was  his  home  for  almost  half  a  century. 

Oct.  7,  1665.  — Then  to  Mr.  Evelyn's  .  .  ,  and  here  he  showed 
me  his  gardens,  which  are,  for  varietv  of  evergreens  and  hedj^ed 
holly,  the  finest  things  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  .  .  . 

Nov.  5,  1665.  —  By  water  to  Deptford,  and  there  made  a  visit 
to  Mr.  Evelyn,  who,  among  other  things,  showed  me  some  excel- 
Pepys's  l^^t  paintings  in  little,  in  distemper,  in  Indian  incke. 
Diary,  1665.  -vyater  colours,  graeving,  and,  above  all,  the  whole 
secret  of  mezzo-tints,  and  the  manner  of  it,  which  is  very  pretty, 
and  good  things  done  with  it.  .  .  .  In  fine,  a  most  excellent  per- 
son be  is,  and  must  be  allowed  a  little  for  a  little  conceitedness  ; 
but  he  may  well  be  so,  being  a  man  so  much  above  others. 

Sayes  Court  was  near  the  Government  Docks  at  Deptford. 
It  was  taken  down,  according  to  Lysons,  in  1728  or  1729, 
and  the  Workhouse  built  upon  its  site.  This  poor-house, 
looking  much  older  than  its  actual  age,  and  believed  by 
many  of  the  residents  in  Deptford  to  have  been  the  original 
house  occupied  by  Evelyn  and  by  Peter  the  Great,  was  still 


1620-1706.]  JOHN   EVELYN.  101 

standing  in  1885,  tit  the  end  of  the  modern  Czar  Street, 
Evelyn  Street,  and  was  the  home  of  poor  old  men  and  wo- 
men, —  subjects  of  the  private  charity  of  W,  J.  Evelyn,  Esq., 
the  proprietor  of  the  estate.  A  small  patch  of  ground  used 
as  the  garden  of  this  house  was  all  that  was  left,  in  any- 
thing like  their  natural  state,  of  Evelyn's  fomous  plantations, 
while  a  larger  portion  had  been  transformed  into  a  public 
recreation  ground,  reached  from  Evelyn  Street  by  Sayes 
Court  Street.  Evelyn's  hedges,  orangeries,  and  groves  had 
all  disappeared. 

Evelyn,  through  his  Diary,  is  easily  traced  to  his  various 
abiding-places  in  town. 

Bept.  10,  1658.  —  I  came  with  my  wife  and  family  to  London; 
tooke  lodgings  at  the  3  Feathers  in  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden, 
for  all  the  Avinter,  my  sonne  being  very  unwell. 

No  trace  of  the  sign  of  the  Three  Feathers  is  to  be  found 
to-da3^ 

March  24,  1662.  —  I  returned  home  with  my  whole  family, 
which  had  been  most  part  of  the  winter  since  October  at  London 
in  lodgings,  neere  the  Abbev  of  Westminster. 

Nov.  17,  1683.  —  I  took  a  house  in  Villiers  Street  [Strand], 
York  Buildings,  for  the  winter,  having  many  important  concerns 
to  despatch,  and  for  the  education  of  my  daughters. 

In  168G  he  'came  to  lodge  at  Whitehall  in  the  Lord  Privy 
Seales  Loddgings.'  He  spent  the  winter  of  1690  in  Soho 
Square,  then  King's  Square. 

July  19,  1699.  — Am  now  remoAang  my  family  to  a  more  con- 
venient house  here,  in  Dover  Street,  where  I  have  the  remainder 
of  a  lease. 

Peter  Cunningham,  consulting  the  rate  books  of  St.  Mar- 
tin's, discovers  this  house  in  Dover  Street,  Piccadilly,  to  have 
been  about  '  nine  doors  up,  on  the  east  side.' 

Evelyn,  in  16.54,  described  the  Mulberry  Gardens  in  St. 
James's   Park,    on    the  site  of   which  stands  the    northern 


102  MICHAEL  FARADAY.  [1791-1867. 

portion  of  Buckingham  Palace  (see  Dryden,  p.  9G),  as  '  ye 
only  place  of  refreshment  in  ye  towne  for  persons  of  ye  best 
quality  to  be  exceedingly  cheated  at.'  The  large  number  of 
places  of  refreshment  in  London  to-day  where  persons  of  the 
best  quality  may  be  cheated  at,  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most 
significant  signs  of  the  progress  of  civilization. 

Evelyn  also  records  his  dining  (Nov.  30,  1G94)  at  Pon- 
tack's,  in  Abchurch  Lane,  with  the  Royal  Society.  No  trace 
of  Pontack's  is  now  left. 


MICHAEL   FAEADAY. 

1791-1867. 

p^ARADAY  was  born  at  Newington,  but  was  taken  as  a 
child  to  Jacob's  Wells  Mews,  Charles  Street,  Manchester 
Squai'e,  in  1796,  where  his  family  lived  for  some  years. 
Charles  Sti'eet,  Manchester  Square,  is  not  to  be  confounded 
with  Charles  Street,  Portman  Square,  its  near  neighbor.  It 
was  that  part  of  the  present  George  Street  running  from 
Spanish  Place  to  Thayer  Street ;  and  Jacob's  Wells  i\Iews, 
little  changed  in  appearance  since  that  time,  was  still  so 
called  in  1885,  and  on  the  south  side  of  George  Street. 
From  1804  to  1812  the  young  Faraday  was  appi-enticed  to 
a  bookseller,  at  No.  2  Blandfoixl  Street,  Portman  Square, 
where  the  same  business  was  cai'ried  on  seventy  years  later. 
The  house  was  raised  one  story  in  the  summer  of  1884.  It 
is  marked  by  the  tablet  of  the  Society  of  Arts. 

In  181.3  Faraday  was  assigned  apartments  at  the  Royal 
Institution,  No.  21  Albemarle  Street,  Piccadilly,  still  in  the 
same  place  in  1885  ;  and  here  he  lived  for  nearly  fifty  yeai's. 
After  his  retirement  in  1858,  he  went  to  a  house  on  Hampton 


1678-1707.]  GEORGE   FARQUHAK.  103 

Court  Green,  where,  nine  years  later,  he  died.  He  was 
buried  in  Highgate  Cemetery;  a  plain  stone  against  the 
east  wall,  about  the  centre  of  the  old  part  of  the  cemetery, 
marking  his  grave. 

He  was  an  original  member  of  the  Atheneeum  Club. 


GEOEGE   FAEQUHAR 

1678-1707. 

T7ARQUHAR  settled  in  London  in  1G9G,  when  he  began 
•^  his  career  as  a  writer  for  the  stage.  His  first  play, 
'Love  in  a  Bottle,'  was  produced  at  Drury  Lane  in  1698. 

About  1700  Farquhar  first  met  Mrs.  Oldfield,  as  de- 
scribed by  Dr.  Doran  in  his  '  Annals  of  the  Stage  '  (vol.  i. 
chap.  xiv.). 

The  time  is  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century  ;  the  scene  is 
the  Mitre  Tavern,  St.  James's  Marl-cet,  kept  by  one  Mrs.  Voss.  .  .  . 
On  the  threshold  of  the  open  door  stand  a  couple  of  guests.  .  .  . 
The  one  is  a  gay,  rollicking  young  fellow,  smartly  dressed,  a  semi- 
military  look  about  him,  good-hutnor  rippling  on  his  face,  combined 
with  an  air  of  astonishment  and  delight.  His  sight  and  hearing 
are  wholly  concentrated  on  that  enchanted  and  enchanting  giid 
who,  unmindful  of  aught  but  the  '  Scornful  Lady,'  continues  still 
reading  aloud  that  rattling  comedy  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
.  .  .  Captain  Farquhar,  at  whatever  passage  in  the  play,  betrayed 
his  presence  by  his  involuntary  applause.  The  girl  looks  towards 
him  more  pleased  than  abashed  ;  and  when  the  Captain  pronounced 
that  there  was  stuff  in  her  for  an  exquisite  actress,  the  flattered 
thing  clasped  her  hands,  glowed  at  the  prophecy,  and  protested 
in  her  turn,  that  of  all  conditions  it  was  the  one  she  wished  most 
ardently  to  fulfil. 


104  HENRY   FIELDING.  [1707-1754. 

St.  James's  Market,  considerably  reduced  in  size  and 
importance,  still  exists  between  Jerniyn  Street,  Charles 
Street,  tiie  present  Regent  Street,  and  the  Haymarket ; 
but  the  IMitrc  Tavern  there  is  not  mentioned  by  Stow, 
Strype,  or  in  '  The  New  A^'iew  of  London'  (1708),  it  does  not 
appear  on  any  of  the  old  maps,  and  no  trace  of  it  is  now 
to  be  found. 

Farquhar,  suffering  in  body,  and  on  his  death-bed,  wrote 
his  'Beau's  Stratagem'  in  six  weeks,  and  lived  only  to  hear 
of  its  brilliant  success.  He  died  iu  April,  1707,  only  a  short 
time  after  its  triumphant  production  at  the  Haymarket,  and 
Avas  buried  in  the  Church  of  St.  Martin-in-the-Fields." 

The  following  touching  letter  to  his  friend  Wilkes  was 
his  valedictory  :  — 

Gibber's  Dear  Bob,  —  I  have  not  anything  to  leave  to  per- 

Pc«ts°  ^  petuate  my  memory  but  two  helpless  girls.  Look  upon 
Farquhar.  ^j^^^^^  sometimes,  and  think  of  him  who  was  to  the  last 
moment  of  his  life  thine,  G.  Farquhar. 


HENRY   FIELDING. 

1707-1754. 

TTIELDING  was  little  more  than  twenty  years  of  age 
■'-  when  he  first  settled  in  London,  and  began  his  literary 
career  as  a  writer  for  the  stage.  In  February,  1735,  he 
was  living  in  Buckingham  Street,  Strand.  In  1737  he 
became  a  student  of  the  Middle  Temple,  and  was  called 
to  the  Bar  three  years  later,  when  '  chambers  were  assigned 
to  him  in  Pump  Court.' 

Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  walking  in  the  Temple   Garden   and 
discoursing  with  Mr.  Spectator  about  the  beauties  in  hoops  and 


1707-1754.]  HENRY   FIELDING.  105 

patches  who  are   sauntering  over  the  grass,   is  just  as  lively  a 

figure  to   me,  as  old   Samuel  Johnson  rolling  through   the  fog 

with  the  Scotch  gentleman  at  his  heels,  on  their  way 

°  _.   ,  Pendennis, 

to  Dr.  Goldsmith's  in  Brick  Court  ;  or  Harry  i^ieldmg,  book  ii. 

with  inked  rufftes,  and  a  wet  towel   round  his  head,  *^  ^^"  ^^^ 

dashing  off  articles'  for  the  Covent  Garden   Journal,  while  the 

printer's  boy  is  asleep  in  the  passage. 

It  is  an  established  fact  that  the  'Covent  Garden  Jour- 
nal '  had  no  existence  until  long  after  Fielding  left  the 
Temple ;  but  Fielding  might  have  dashed  off  '  copy  '  for 
some  other  publication  at  that  period,  as  Thackeray,  never 
very  accurate  about  dates  and  details,  describes ;  and  the 
picture  drawn  of  him  with  the  wet  towel,  and  the  printer's 
devil  snoring  on  the  stairs,  is  too  good  to  be  destroyed. 

It  has   now   been   ascertained   that   the   marriage   [Fielding's 
second  marriage]    took  place   at  St.    Benet's,   Paul's  Wharf,  an 
obscure  little  church  in  the  City,  at   present  surren- 
dered to  a  Welsh  congregation,  but  at  that  time  .  .  .     Dobson's 
much  in   request   for   unions  of  a  private   character.  g^®p'"f' 
The  date  in  the  register  is  the  27th  November,  1747. 
.  ,  .  Either  previously  to  this  occasion  or  immediately  after  it. 
Fielding  seems  to  have  taken  two  rooms  in  a  house  in  Back  Lane, 
Twickenham,  not  far  from  the  site  of  Copt  Hall.     In  1872  this 
house  was  stiU  standing,  a  quaint  old-fashioned  wooden  struc- 
ture. .  .  .  Now  [1883]  it  no  longer  exists,  and  a  row  of  cottages 
occupies  the  site. 

St.  Benet's  still  remained  in  1885  ou  Upper  Thames 
Street,  corner  of  Bennet's  Hill. 

Mr.  Dobson  shows  that  Fielding  must  have  entered  upon 
his  office  of  Justice  of  the  Peace  early  in  December,  1748, 
a  document  bearing  date  December  9  of  that  year 
describing  him  as  '  Henry  Fielding,  Esq.,  of  Bow  Street, 
Covent  Garden.'  He  then  occupied  the  house  upon  the 
site  of  which  the  police  station  has  been  built.  Cunningham 
and  other  writers  assert  that  'Tom  Jones'  was  written  in 


lUG  HENRY   FIELDING.  [17U7-1754. 

Bow  Street;  but  as  it  was  published  in  February,  1749, 
only  a  month  or  two  after  his  taking  up  his  residence  there, 
this  can  hardly  be  true.  In  Bow  Street  was  Fielding's  town 
home  until  he  went  to  Lisbon,  in  1754,  to  die.  He  spent 
the  summer  months  in  a  cottage  at  Fordhook, 

Ilciiiy    Fielding,    the     Cervantes    of    Eii^huid,   resided    occa- 
sionally, during  the  last  mournful  year  of  his  life,  at  Fordhook, 
situated  on  the    Uxbrid<'e   Eoad,  at   the   distance   of 

Thonias  ,         °i,  ^ 

KaiiikiK  r's  about  a  uiue  from  the  village  of  Acton,  at  the  eastern 
lOaiing.'a'iKi  extremity  of  Ealnig.  Fielding,  whose  pen  had  been 
Cheswick,      ^^jjg  source  of  so  much  heai'tfelt  mirth,  was    now  oi)- 

uliap.  IV.  .... 

pressed   by  a  complication  of  disordeis,  which  threw 

a  cloud  over  his  fancy,  and  would  have  subjugated  the  whole 
powei-s  of  a  mind  less  vivacious  and  elastic. 

JVednesdaij,  July  26,  1754. —  On  this  day  the  most  melan- 
choly sun  I  ever  beheld  arose,  and  found  me  awake  at  my  home 

at  Fordhook.  ...  At  twelve  precisely  my  coach  was 
Jouniarof  at  the  door,  which  I  was  no  sooner  told  than  I  kissed 
Lisbon*^i754    ^"^  children  all  around,  and  went  into  it  with  some 

little  resolution.  My  wife,  Avho  behaved  more  like  a 
heroine  and  philosopher,  though  at  the  same  time  the  tenderest 
mother  in  the  world,  and  my  eldest  daughter,  followed  me  ; 
some  friends  with  us,  and  others  here  took  their  leave,  and  I 
heard  my  behavior  applauded,  with  many  murmurs  and  praises, 
to  which  I  well  knew  I  had  no  title,  as  all  other  such  philosophers 
may,  if  they  have  any  modesty,  confess  on  a  like  occasion. 

Thoi'ne,  in  his  '  Hand- Book,'  says  that  Fielding  at  one 
time  occupied  an  old  house  on  Barnes  Common,  known  as 
Milbourne  House ;  and  there  is  a  tradition  that  he  lived 
for  a  short  period  in  Beaufort  Buildings,  opposite  Exeter 
Street,  Strand. 

He  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  Bedford  Coffee  House, 
under  the  Piazza,  Co  vent  Garden  (see  Churchill,  p.  51). 


1576-1625.]  JOHN   FLETCHEli.  10' 


JOHN  FLETCHER 

1579-1625. 

'T^HE  place  (?f  Fletcher's  birth  is  not  known  to  iis,"  and 
almost  nothing  of  his  personal  history  in  or  out  of 
London,  except  that  he  lived  in  tlie  closest  intimacy  with 
Beaumont  on  the  Bankside  (see  Beaumont),  and  that  he 
was  buried  in  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  Overy  (St.  Saviour's), 
Southwark,  at  the  end  of  London  Bridge,  one  of  the  most 
ancient  and  interesting  of  London  churches,  although  but 
little  of  the  original   building  is  now  left. 

Oldwit.  —  I  knew  Fletcher,  my  friend  Fletcher,  and  his  maid 
Joan  ;  I  shall  never  forget  him  ;  I  have  supped  with  shadweU's 
him  at  his  house  on  the  Bankside  ;  he  loved  a  lat  loin  ^^"'7  ^^^' 
of  pork  of  all  things  in  the  world  ;  and  Joan,  his  maid,  scene  i. 
had  her  beer-glass  of  sack,  and  we  all  kissed  her  ;  foith,  and  were 
as  merry  as  passed. 

In  the  great  plague  1625,  a  knight  of  Norfolk  or  Suffolk  in- 
vited him  [Fletcher]  into  the  country.     He  stayed  but  to  make 
himselfe  a  suit  of  cloathes,  and  while  it  was  makeing,  Aubrey's 
fell  sick  of  the  plague  and  dyed.     This  I  had  from  Lives. 
his  tayler  who  is  now  a  very  old  man,  and  clarke  of  St.  Alary 
Overy's. 

In  this  church  [St.  Mary  Overy's]  was  interred,  without  any 
memorial,  that  eminent  Dramatick  Poet,  Mr.  John  Fletcher,  son 
to  Bishop  Fletcher  of  London,  who  dyed  of  the  Plague,  Aubrey's 
the  19th  of  August,  1625.     When  I  searched  the  Regis-  f^l^^^  "^ 
ter  of  this  Parish  in  1670  for  his  obit  for  the  use  of  Mr.  ''o^-  ^■ 
Anthony  a  Wood,  the  Parish  Clerk,  aged  above  eighty,  told  me 
that  he  was  his  Tayler,  and  that  Mr.  Fletcher  staying  for  a  suit 
of  cloaths  before  he  retired  into  the  country.  Death  stopped  his 
journey  and  laid  him  low  here. 


108  JOHN    FOX.  [1517-1587. 

A  few  years  ago  Fletcher's  name  and  the  date  of  his  death 
were  engraved  upon  a  stone  in  the  pavement  of  the  choir  of 
St.  Saviour's,  although  the  exact  spot  where  his  bones  lie 
is  not  recorded. 


JOHN   FOX. 

1517-1587. 


T^OX'S  '  History  of  the  Acts  and  Monuments  of  the 
"^  Church,'  more  familiarly  known  as  the  '  Book  of  the 
Martyrs,'  was  published  in  15.53,  the  last  year  of  the  reign 
of  Edward  VI.,  and  was  written,  it  is  said,  while  Fox  was 
living  in  the  famous  Grub  Street.  Grub  Street,  in  the  parish 
of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate,  was  composed  of  mean  low  houses, 
old  even  in  the  sixteenth  century,  tenanted  by  compilers  of 
pamphlets,  penny  and  halfpenny  papers,  and  '  criticks  run  to 
seed,'  and  gave  its  name,  from  the  nature  of  its  inhabitants, 
tcj,  a  class  of  writing  which  was  neither  exalted  nor  pure. 
It  lies  between  Fore  Street  and  Chiswell  Street,  and  has 
now  been  called  Milton  Street,  in  honor  of  the  author,  who 
emphatically  had  no  connection  or  association  with  the  orig- 
inal Grub  Street  or  its  literature.'"  Its  old  houses  have 
entirely  disappeared. 

After  the  accession  of  Mary,  Fox  left  England,  and  did  not 
return  until  the  beginning  of  Elizabeth's  reign.  In  1565  he 
was  an  inmate  of  the  household  of  his  patron,  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  whose  town  mansion  was  then  the  Charter  House, 
at  the  head  of  Aldersgate  Street,  which,  taken  from  the 
Church  by  Henry  VIIT.,  did  not  become  a  school  until  IGll, 
when  James  was  king  (see  Addison). 

Fox  preached  at  Paul's  Cross,  and  is  said  to  have  held  for 
a  short  time  the  living  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate,  where  he 


JOHN    FLETCHER. 


1740-1818.]  SIR   PHILIP  FRANCIS.  109 

was  bufied  in  1587.  A  muval  tablet  with  a  Latin  inscription 
was  erected  to  his  memory  in  the  church,  and  is  still  to  be 
seen  there.  St.  Giles's,  one  of  the  few  remaining  city 
churches  which  escaped  the  Great  Fire  of  16G6,  was  built 
in  1545. 

Paul's  Cross  stood  on  the  north  side  of  St.  Paul's  Churcli- 
yard,  a  few  yards  east  of  Canon  Alley.  The  congregation 
worshipped  in  the  open  air. 


SIE   PHILIP   FRANCIS. 

1740-1818. 

T^RANCIS,    in   1753,   was  sent  to  Paul's  School,   in  St. 
Paul's  Churchyard,  on  the  east  side  of  the  Cathedral 
(see  Milton). 

Much  of  his  youth  was  spent  out  of  England,  but  in  17(31 
he  was  appointed  private  secretary  to  William  Pitt,  Eai'l  of 
Chatham  ;  and  Lady  Francis  thus  describes  his  duties  and 
position  at  that  time  :  — 

His  manner  of  attending  there  was  to  come  early  in  tlie  morn- 
ing to  Lord  C.'s  iiouse  in  St.  James's  Square,  where  he  was  shown 
into  a  library,  and  found  his  breakfast  and  the  w'ork  of 
the  day;  and  I  have  heard  him  say  that  he  was  so  of  Francis, 
happy  in  having  command   of  the  books  unmolested  ^'° '  "' 
(for  sometimes  he  had  long  intervals  of  leisure  when  his  pen  was 
not  requii'ed),  that  lie  probably,   from  these  agreeable  remem- 
brances, retained  all  his  life  a  partiality  for  St.  James's  Square, 
in  which,  as  soon  as  his  circumstances  permitted  him,  he  bonght 
a  house. 

Francis  lived  subsequently  in  Harley  Street,  Cavendish 
Square;  and  from  1791  until  the  time  of  his  death  at  No. 
14  St.  James's  Square,  in  a  house  taken  down  some  years 


110  BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN.  [1706-1790. 

ago.     The  East  India  Service  Club  was  erected  on  its  site. 
In  17!)  I  he  wrote  :  — 

I  have  removed  into  a  very  convenient  house  in  St.  James's 
Square,  where  I  believe  I  am  at  anchor  for  life.     The 

Parkes' Life       ^  '       ,  .  .  i  ,,     , 

of  Francis,     name  oi  the  situation  sounds  well,  but  you  would  be 

much  mistaken  in  concluding  that  I  live  in  a  palace. 

He  was  a  member,  among  other  clubs,  of  Brooks's,  No.  GO 
St.  James's  Street ;  but  he  withdrew  on  the  publication  of 
Taylor's  'The  Identity  of  Junius,'  which  brought  his  name 
conspicuously  before  the  club,  and  gave  him  a  notoriety 
very  distressing  to  him. 


BEXJAMIN   FEANKLIN. 

1706-1790. 

T^R-ANKLIN,  at  different  periods  of  his  life,  spent  a 
"*-  number  of  years  in  London.  In  his  '  Autobiography ' 
he  thus  relates  his  earliest  experiences  here,  on  his  arrival 
in  1724:  — 

Ralpli  [James  Ralph]  and  I  were  inseparable  companions. 
We  took  lodgings  together  at  Little  Britain,  at  three  shillings 
and  sixpence  a  week,  which  was  all  we  could  afford.  ...  I 
then  got  into  work  at  Palmer's,  then  a  famous  printing-house 
in  Bartholomew  Close,  and  here  I  continued  near  a  year.  .  .  . 
I  now  began  to  think  of  getting  a  little  money  beforehand,  and, 
expecting  better  work,  I  left  Palmer's  to  work  at  Watt's  near 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  a  still  greater  printing-house.  Here  I  con- 
tinued all  the  rest  of  my  stay  in  London.  .  .  .  My  lodgings  in 
Little  Britain  being  too  remote,  I  found  another  in  Duke  Street, 
opposite  the  Romish  Chapel.  It  was  two  pair  of  stairs  back- 
wards, at  an  Italian  warehouse. 


,^ 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 


1706-1790]  BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN.  Ill 

Little  Britain  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  was  a  centre 
of  the  bookselling  and  printing  trade.  No  trace  is  left  of 
Palmer's  in  Bartholomew  Close  ;  but  Watt's  printing-house 
stood  on  the  south  side  of  Wild  Court,  a  short  street  run- 
ning from  Great  Wild  Street,  Drury  Lane,  to  Sardinia 
Place.  The  greater  pai't  of  the  south  side  of  this  court 
had  been  taken  down  in  1885  ;  but  the  opposite  side,  towards 
Great  Queen  Street,  was  still  unchanged,  —  a  row  of  wretched 
buildings,  tenanted  by  the  most  miserable  of  the  London 
poor. 

Franklin's  lodging-house  in  Duke  Street,  '■  opposite  the 
Romish  Chapel,'  was  probably  No.  G  Sardinia  St.,  an  an- 
cient house  facing  the  Sardinia  Catholic  Chapel  in  1885. 

In  1757  Franklin  was  again  in  London,  as  the  agent  of  the 
American  Colonies,  to  confer  with  the  home  Government. 

At  the  invitation  of  his  friend  Collinson,  he  went  in  the  first 

instance  to  the  house  of  that  gentleman,  where  he  was  hospitably 

entertained  till  he  could  procure  suitable   permanent 

*•  HoUey  s  Life 

lodginss  ;   such   lodijinccs   he   shortly   after    found   at  of  Fiankiiu, 

the   house  of  Mrs.    Stevenson,  No.   7   Craven   Street 

[Strand]  ;    and    they    proved    so    convenient,    comfortable,    and 

every  way  pleasant,  that  he  made  his  home  there  during  all  his 

long  subsequent   residence   in   London,  embracing,   in   the  two 

missions   on   which    he   was   sent   thither,   about   fifteen    years. 

That  house,  says  Dr.  Sparks,  is  noted  to  this  day,  in  the  London 

guide-books,  as  the  house  in  which  Franklin  resided. 

Franklin's  Craven  Street  house  has  been  rebuilt.  It 
bears  a  tablet  of  the  Society  of  Arts.  He  was  in  London 
from  1757  to  1762,  and  again  in  17G4,  when  he  remained 
in  Craven  Street  for  ten  years. 

Sparks  has  printed  a  number  of  Franklin's  letters  dated 

from  Kensington  ;   and  no  doubt  written  in  an  old  house  — 

standing  in  1885,  but  doomed  to  destruction  —  in  the  grounds 

of  the  South  Kensington  Museum.    It  is  a  dingy  two-storied 

11 


112  JUIIN    GAY.  [1C88-17321. 

brick  building,  somo  distance  back  fioin  Cromwell  Road,  and 
facing  it  at  its  junction  with  Thurloe  Place.  It  is  barely 
visible  from  the  thoroughfare,  and  is  also  marked  by  the 
Society  of  Arts.^° 

Franklin  was  among  the  distinguished  visitors  at  Don 
Saltero's  Museum  and  Coffee  House,  No.  18  Cheyne  Walk, 
Chelsea  (see  SmoIjLETt),  and  relates  in  his  '  Autobiography,' 
with  considerable  pride,  his  long  swim  from  Chelsea  to 
Black  friars. 


JOHN   GAY. 

1688-1732. 

/^"^  AY  was  but  a  lad  when  he  began  life  in  London,  as  a 
^-^  silk-mercer's  apprentice,  in  the  Strand  ;  and  settled 
home  of  his  own  he  never  seems  to  have  had  here.  He  was 
an  iumate  of  the  house  of  the  Duchess  of  Monmouth ;  he 
had  lodgings  at  one  time  at  Whitehall ;  he  lived  for  a  time 
in  retirement  at  Hampstead ;  and  he  finally  became  a 
member  of  the  family  of  the  Duke  of  Queensbury,  either 
at  Amesbury,  Petersham,  or  in  Queensbury  House,  which 
stood  on  the  north  side  of  P>ui'lington  Gardens,  between 
Savile  Row  and  Old  Burlington  Street.  It  was  taken  down 
at  the  end  of  the  last  century,  when  Uxbridge  House, 
occupied  in  1885  by  the  Western  Branch  of  the  Bank  of 
England,  was  built  upon  its  site.     Gay  died  here  in  1732. 

His  body  was  brought  by  the  Company  of  Upholders  from  the 
Dean  Stan-  Diike  of  Queensbury's  to  Exoter  Change,  and  thence 
ifiLstei'^''  "  ^^  ^^^^  Abbey,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  winter's  evening 
Abbey,  cliap.  [December  23].  Lord  Chesterfield  and  Pope  were 
288.  present  among  the  mourners.     He  had  already,  two 

months  before  his  death,  desirecl  :  '  My  dear  Mr.  Pope,  wlioni  I 


;TTmTiiiirmmTiraTTnTraiTmT!!Tranijiiiiiuii!iuiiuiiiiuiiiiuinnni 


m 


JOHN    GAY. 


1737-1794.]  EDWARD   GIBBON.  113 

lo\'e  as  my  own  soul  :  if  you  survive  me,  as  you  certainly  will, 
if  a  stone  shall  mark  the  place  of  my  grave,  see  these  words  put 
upon  it :  — 

"Life  is  a  jest  and  all  things  show  it : 
I  thought  so  once,  and  now  I  know  it," 

with  what  else  you  may  think  proper.'  His  wish  was  complied 
with. 

Exeter  Change  stood  on  the  north  side  of  the  Strand, 
between  Wellington  Street  and  Burleigh  Street,  and  on  the 
site  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre.     It  was  taken  down  in  1829. 

Gay  was  a  member  of  the  Scriblerus  Club,  which  met  at 
various  taverns  at  the  West  End  of  London ;  and  a  frequenter 
of  Will's  (see  Apdisox,  p.  7).  The  Rose  Tavern,  a  favorite  re- 
sort of  Gay's,  stood  on  the  cast  side  of  Brydges  Street,  next 
to  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  and  was  taken  down  to  make  room 
for  the  extension  of  the  theatre  by  Garrick  in  1775  or  1776. 


EDWAED   GIBBON". 

1737-1794. 

/^~^  IBBON  was  born  at  Lime  Grove,  at  the  base  of  Putney 
^^  Hill,  in  a  house  no  longer  standing.  He  was  baptized 
in  the  parish  church  of  Putney,  St.  Mary's,  which  was  rebuilt 
in  18.36  ;  and  his  early  youth  was  spent  in  that  then  sub- 
urban town.  In  1746  he  was  sent  to  the  Free  Grammar 
School,  London  Street,  Kingston-on-Thames,  where  he  re- 
mained two  years. 

By  the  common  methods  of  discipline,  the  expense  of  many 

tears,  and   some   blood,    I   purchased   the   knowledge 

r  xi       T      •  n  ,  ■  r  Gibbon'.s 

01  the  Latm  syntax;  and  not  long  snu-e  I  was  nos-  Memoir  of 

sessed  of   the  dirty  volumes  of  Pha^drus  and  Cnrne-      """^  ' 

lius  Nepos,  which  I  painfully  construed  and  darldy  understood. 


114  EDWAKD   GIBBON.  [1737-1794. 

Ill  1749  Gibbon  entered  Westminster  School  (see  Church- 
ill, p.  51),  but  his  delicate  health  forced  him  to  leave 
town  after  a  short  term  there.  During  his  school  days 
and  later,  his  London  home  was  witli  an  aunt  who  kept  a 
boarding-house  for  Westminster  boys  iu  (College  Street,  and 
afterwards  in  Dean's  Yard. 

Gibbon  was  sent  to  Oxford  in  175:2,  and  after  his  residence 
there  spent  five  years  in  Switzerland  before  he  returned 
permanently   to  Loudon. 

Gibbon,  when  young  and  fresh  from  Lausanne,  saw  little  to  en- 
joy in  London,  where  he  found  '  citnvds  \\itbout  coni])any,  and 
Wheatley's  dissipation  without  pleasure.'  In  17G(>  he  lodged  in 
Roumi  t]ii^  street  [Bond  Strwtl  and  studio.l  in  the  midst  of 

PiiiMauiy,      the  I'asluonuljle  world  around  him.     He  says,  'Wliile 
coaches  were   rattling   through   Bond   Street,    I    have 
passed  many  solitary  evenings  iu  my  lodgings  Avith  my  books.' 

Gibbon  lived  for  a  time  in  Pall  Mall,  but  in  1772  he  took 
the  house  No.  7  Bentinck  Street,  Manchester  Square,  where 
some  of  the  happiest  years  of  his  life  were  spent,  and  where 
were  written  the  first  volumes  of  '  The  Decline  and  Fall  of 
the  Roman  Empire.' 

Gibbon's  Yt^y  my  own  iiart,  niv  late  journey  has   onlv   con- 

CoiTesiHind-        .  "  n.-      _  t-,  '     •      i    r.  •       i      i  i 

ence,  17S3.  viuced  me  that  ^o.  /  Bentmck  Street  is  the  best  house 
in  the  world. 

Bentinck  is  a  short,  quiet  street,  running  from  AVelbeck 
Street  to  Marylebone  Lane.  No.  7  has  been  renewed,  and 
is  almost  the  only  house  in  the  street  tliat  has  undergone 
any  change  during  the  last  century. 

Gibbon  died  in  1794  at  No.  76  St.  James's  Street,  on  the 
south  corner  of  Little  St.  James's  Street,  in  the  house  of 
Elmsley  the  publislier,  who  some  years  before  had  de- 
clined to  take  the  risk  of  the  printing  of  the  history. 
Elmslev's  house  was  taken  down  upon  the  erection  of  the 
Conservative  Club. 


F.nWARD    GIBBON. 


1712-1785.]  RICHARD   GLOVER.  115 

Gibbon  was  a  member  of  a  number  of  fashionable  clubs, 
including  The  Club  (see  Johnson)  ;  Boodle's,  No.  28  St. 
James's  Street ;  Brooks's,  No.  60  St.  James's  Street ; 
White's,  Nos.  36  and  37  St.  James's  Street  (see  (Jibber,  p. 
54) ;  and  the  Cocoa  Tree  Club,  No.  64  St.  James's  Street 
(see  Addison,  p.  7). 

I  dined  at  the  Cocoa  Tree  with  Holt.  We  went  thence  to 
the  play  ('  The  Spanish  Friar  '),  and  when  it  was  over  returned 
to  the  Cocoa  Tree.     That  respectable  body,  of  which 

^  ir      1  Gibbons 

I  have  the   honor  of  benig  a  member,  anords  every  Diary, 
evening  a  sight  truly  English.     Twenty  or  thirty  per-  f^'^^.  ^'*' 
haps  of  the    finest   men    in  the  kingdom,  in  point  of 
fashion   and   fortune,    supping  at   little   tables    covered   with   a 
napkin,  in  the  middle  of  a  coifee-room,  upon  a  bit  of  cold  meat  or 
a  sandwich,  and  drinking  a  glass  of  punch.     At  present  [1762]  we 
are  full  of  King's  counsellors  and  lords  of  the  bed-chamber. 


RICHARD   GLOVER. 

1712-1785. 

'  T  EON  ID  AS'  GLOVER  was  a  Hamburg  merchant  on 
^-^  Poultney  Hill  (Cannon  Street),  but  no  trace  of  the 
site  of  his  warehouse  remains.  He  lived  at  No.  11  James 
Street,  York  Street,  Buckingham  Gate,  and  at  No.  9  Bennet 
Street,  on  the  northwest  corner  of  St.  James's  Street ;  and 
he  died  in  Albemarle  Street,  Piccadilly,  in  1785.  James 
Street  has  been  lengthened,  rebuilt,  and  renumbered  since 
that  time,  and  the  site  of  Glover's  house  cannot  positively 
be  determined.  It  was  opposite  that  portion  of  St.  James's 
Pailt  which  has  since  been  transformed  into  the  Parade 
Ground  of  Wellington  Barracks. 


116  WILLIAM   GODWIN.  ri756-1836. 


G 


WILLIAM   GODWIN. 

1756-1836. 

OPWIX'S  earliest  lodgings  in  London  were  'near  the 
new  cliurch  in  the  Strand'  (8t.  Mary-lc-Strand),' where 
he  remained  for  a  ydar,  1783—84,  and  where  he  published 
his  first  book.  He  occupied  over  a  dozen  different  lodging- 
houses,  always  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Strand,  between 
178-1:  and  1792.     Shortly  after  this  he  wrote  :  — 

William  In   the  beginning  of  the  year  1793  I  removed  to  a 

Godwin,  lliS  •        /-,i      V  n  tti  -r,  ^-,       r-, 

Frifiids  and  siujiil  housB  HI  Cluuton  Street  [lliUstoii  KoadJ,  Soniers 
rai'i'es'Yoi  i  Town,  which  I  possess  entirely  to  myself,  with  no 
chap.  iv.  other  attendance  than  the  dail}'  resort  of  a  bed-maker 
for  about  an  hour  each  day.  ...  In  this  year  also  I  wrote  the 
principal  part  of  the  novel  of  '  Caleb  Williams.' 

Godwin  and  Mary  Wollstonecraft  were  married  in  Old 
St.  Pancras  Church,  March  29,  1797,  Godwin  making  no 
note  of  the  fact  in  his  diary.  A  few  weeks  later  he  wrote 
to  a  friend  from  No.  7  Eversham  Buildings,  Soniers  Town  ; 
and  here,  in  Septendjer  of  the  same  year,  Mary  Wollstonecraft 
died. 

Eversham  Buildings  was  that  part  of  the  present  Chalton 
Street  which  lies  between  Chapel  Street  (then  Chapel  Path) 
and  Phoenix  Street.  It  leads  to  the  Polygon,  where  in  1800 
and  afterwards  Godwin  was  living,  and  where  he  was  wooed 
and  won  by  his  second  wife. 

The  Polygon  in  1885  was  a  block  of  plain,  unassuming 
middle-class  houses,  irregular  in  shape,  as  its  name  implies, 
and  occupying  the  centre  of  Clarendon  Square. 

In  1807  the  Godwins  removed  to  No.  41  Skinner  Street, 
Holborn,  wdiich   was  on    the   south    side  of  St.   Sepulchre's 


WILLIAM  GODWIN. 


1756-1836.]  WILLIAM   GODWIN.  117 

Church,  Snow  liilL  It  connected  Holbovn  with  Newgate 
Street,  and  was  entirely  removed  on  the  construction  of 
the  Holborn  viaduct  (see  Bunyan,  p.  26). 

I  remember  him  when  he  kept  a  bookseller's  shop  on  Snow 
Hill.     He  kept  it  under  the  name  of  Edward  Baldwin  ;  had  it 
been  carried  on  in  his  own  name,  he  would  have  had  o  /-.  tt  ii, 
few  customers,  for  his  published  opinion  had  excited  Retrospect 

,    ,         ...  ,       ,  -r  111  of  ='  Long 

general  hostility,  to  say  the  least.     1  was  a  schoolboy  Life: 
then,   and   can   remember  purchasing   a   book  there,     °  ^^"^' 
handed  to  me  by  himself     It  was  a  poor  shop,  poorly  furnished  ; 
its   contents   consisting  chietly  of  children's  books  with  the  old 
colored  prints,  that   would   contrast   so   strangely  with   the   art 
illustrations  of  to-day. 

After  his  business  failuie  in  1823  he  was  at  No.  195 
Strand,  near  Arundel  Street,  and  opposite  St.  Clement's 
Church,  and  in  Gower  Place,  Euston  Square,  working  hard 
at  his  books,  and  seeing  but  little  society  except  such  as 
sought  him  in  his  retirement 

Godwin  was  living  in  New  Palace  Yard  in  1832.  when 
Douglas  Jerrold  took  his  sou  to  call  upon  him. 

I  remember  vividly  accompanying  my  father  to  the  dark  rooms 
in  the  New  Palace.  Yard,  where  I  saw  an  old  vivacious  lady  and 
old  gentleman.     My  father   was  most  anxious  that  I  Life  of 
should  remember  them,  and  I  do  remember  well  that  ';'""sia*, 

'  Jerrold  by 

he  appeared  to  bear  a  strong  regard  for  them.  .  .  .  liis  Son, 
One  morning  he  called  on  the  Godwins',  and  was  kept 
for  some  moments  waiting  in  their  drawing-room.  It  was  irre- 
sistible, he  never  could  think  of  these  things.  Whistle  in  a 
ladie-s'  drawing-room  !  Still  he  did  whistle,  —  not  only  pia- 
nissimo, but  fortissimo,  with  variations  enough  to  satisfy  the  most 
ambitious  of  thrushes.  Suddeuly  good  little  Mrs.  Godwin  gently 
opened  the  door,  paused  still  —  not  seen  by  the  performer — to 
catch  the  dying  notes  of  the  air,  and  then,  coming  up  to  her 
visitor,  startled  him  with  the  recpiest,  made  in  all  seriousness, 
'  You  could  n't  whi.stle  that  again,  could  you  ? ' 


118  OLIVKU    (lOLDSMITII.  [1728-1774. 

Tho  erection  of  the  New  Houses  of  Parliament  has  entirely 
chanjied  tlie  features  of  New  Palace  Yard.  Godwin  died  here 
in  183G,  and  was  buried  by  the  side  of  Maiy  Wollstonecraft 
in  tlie  yard  of  Old  St.  Pancras  Church,  St.  Pancras-in-the- 
Ficlds. 

On  the  building  of  the  Metropolitan  and  Midland  Rail- 
ways, and  the  destruction  (jf  portions  of  this  graveyard,  the 
bones  of  Godwin  and  of  his  two  wives  were  removed,  in  1851, 
to  Boui'nemouth. 

This  cemetery  on  Old  St.  Pancras  Road  was  known  in 
1885  as  St.  Pancras  Gardens.  Its  character  was  still  pre- 
served, although  no  interments  have  been  permitted  there  in 
many  years.  All  the  old  tombs  were  still  standing,  except 
such  as  had  been  destroyed  by  the  railway  bridges. 

Godwin  was  an  active  member  of  the  Mulberry  Club 
(see  Jerrold).  It  held  its  meetings  at  the  Wrekin  Tavern, 
which  stood  until  about  1870  at  No.  22  Broad  Court,  Bow 
Street,  on  the  corner  of  Cross  Court. 


OLIVEPt   GOLDSMITH. 

1728-1774. 

T'X /'HEN  Oliver  Goldsmith,  penniless,  friendless,  and  for- 
^  '  lorn,  first  arrived  in  London,  in  1750,  he  foiuid  em- 
ployment in  the  establishment  of  a  chemist,  at  the  corner 
of  Monument  Yard  and  Fish  Street ;  but  no  houses  dating 
back  so  fnv  as  the  middle  of  the  last  century  exist  there 
now.  In  the  same  year,  1756,  he  is  known  to  have  at- 
tempted the  practice  of  medicine  on  the  Bankside,  and 
also  to  have  been  reading  proof  for  Samuel  Richardson  in 
Salisbury  Court,  PTeet  Street  (see  Richardson). 


OLIVER    GOLDSMITH. 


1728-1774.]  OLIVER    GOLDSMITH.  119 

In  the  beainnino-  of  1757  Goldsmith  was  usher  in  a  school 
at  Peckhani  ;  and  Goldsmith  House,  as  the  school  building- 
was  afterwards  called,  still  stood,  and  was  respected,  for  Gold- 
smith's sake,  at  Peckhani,  when  John  Forster  wrote  Iiis  '  Life 
of  Goldsmith'  in  18-18.      It  was  taken  down  in  187G. 

In  1758  Goldsmith  found  lodgings  at  No.  12  Green  Arbor 
Court,  Old  Bailey. 

Irving,  in  his  'Life  of  Goldsmith,'  quotes  Bishop  Percy,  a 
warm  friend  of  the  author  of  '  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,'  as 
saying  :  — 

I  called  on  Goldsmith  at  his  lodgings  in  March,  1759,  and 
found  him  writing  his  '  Inquiry  '  in  a  miserable,  dirty-looking 
room,  in  which  there  was  but  one  chair  ;  and  when,  from  civility, 
he  resigned  it  to  me,  he  himself  was  obliged  to  sit  in  the  window. 

In  his  'Tales  of  a  Traveller'  ('The  Club  of  Good  Fel- 
lows'), Irving  thus  describes  his  own  visit  to  Green  Arbor 
Court,  half  a  century  after  Goldsmith's  death  :  — 

At  length  we  come  upon  Fleet  Market,  and,  traversing  it, 
turned  up  a  narrow  street  to  the  bottom  of  a  long,  steep  flight 
of  stone  steps,  called  Breakneck  Stairs.  These,  he  told  me,  led  to 
Green  Arbor  Court,  and  that  down  them  poor  Goldsmith  might 
many  a  time  have  risked  his  neck.  When  we  entered  the  court 
I  could  not  but  smile  to  think  in  what  out-of-the-way  corners 
Genius  produces  her  bantlings.  .  .  .  This  Green  Arbor  Court  I 
found  to  be  a  small  square  surrounded  by  tall  and  miserable 
houses,  the  very  intestines  of  which  seemed  turned  inside  out,  to 
judge  from  the  old  garments  and  frippery  fluttering  from  every 
window.  It  appears  to  be  a  region  of  washerwomen,  and  lines 
were  stretched  about  the  little  square,  on  which  clothes  were  dang- 
ling to  dry.  .  .  .  Poor  Goldsmith  !  what  a  time  he  must  have  had 
of  it,  with  his  quiet  disposition  and  nervous  habits,  penned  up  in 
this  den  of  noise  and  vulgarity  ! 

Green  Arbor  Court  in  1885  was  little  more  than  a  patch 
of  bare  ground  filled  with  carriers'  carts  and  i-ailway  vans. 
The   old  houses  had   all   disappeared,  and  brand-new  brick 
12 


120  oLivF.u  (;(iLi)sMrrii.  [17-28-1774. 

buildings  occupied  their  site.  The  court  is  open  towards 
the  Old  Bailey  ;  but  the  Holboru  Viaduct  Station  stretches 
across  its  western  end,  where  once  were  Breakneck.  Stairs, 
leading  to  Fleet  Market  and  Seacoal  Lane. 

In  17G0  Goldsmith  removed  to  No.  6  Wuie  Office  Court, 
Fleet  Street,  where  he  occupied  more  respectable  lodgings 
than  any  to  which  he  had  before  aspired.  Here  Dr.  John- 
sou  hrst  visited  him  on  the  31st  of  May,  17G1.  The  house 
known  as  No.  G  Wine  Office  Court  in  1885  was  probably  of 
later  date  than  Goldsmith's  time.  It  is  ncaily  opposite  the 
well-known  Cheshire  Cheese  Tavern,  where  tradition  says  he 
frequently  dined  and  supped  with  Dr.  Johnson  and  other 
congenial  friends  (see  Johnson). 

Goldsmith  wrote  '  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield '  in  Wine 
Office  Court,  and  Dr.  Johnson's  description  of  a  scene  that 
occurred  there  after  its  completion  will  best  show-  the  char- 
acter of  the  man  and  his  mode  of  life  at  that  time. 
Boswell  reports  his  gre-.it  friend  as  saying  :  — 

I  received  one  morning  a  mes.sage  from  poor  Goldsmith,  that  lie 
was  in  great  distress^,  and  as  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  come  to 

me,  begging  that  I  would  come  to  him  as  soon  as  pos- 
Lifeof  °  sible.  I  .sent  him  a  guinea,  and  promised  to  come  to 
r^"^°"'        ^^''"  directly.     1  accordingly  went  to  him  as  soon  as  I 

was  dressed,  and  found  that  hi.s  landlady  had  arrested 
him  for  his  rent,  at  which  he  was  in  a  violent  passion.  I  per- 
ceived that  he  liad  already  changed  my  guinea,  and  had  a  bottle  of 
Madeira  and  a  glass  before  him.  I  put  the  cork  into  the  bottle, 
desired  he  would  be  calm,  and  In^gan  to  talk  to  him  of  the  means 
by  which  he  might  be  extric;ited.  He  then  told  me  that  he  had  a 
novel  ready  for  the  press,  wdiich  he  produced  to  me.  I  looked 
into  it,  and  .sjiw  its  merit  ;  told  the  landlady  I  should  soon  return, 
and,  having  gone  to  a  bookseller,  sold  it  for  sixty  pounds.  I 
brought  Goldsnn'th  the  money  ;  and  he  discharged  his  rent,  ncjt 
without  rating  his  landlady  in  a  high  tone  for  having  used  him 
so  ill. 


1728-1774]  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  121 

"lu  17(J4  Johnson  found  Goldsmith  in  a  humble  set  of 
chambers  at  No.  2  Garden  Court,  Middle  Temple,  near  the 
New  Library  and  behind  Fountain  Court.  The  buildings 
have  now  disappeared.  He  went  there  from  Gray's  Inn, 
from  whence  he  dated  a  letter  on  the  Gth  of  March  of  the 
same  year. 

The  five  hundred  pounds  received  for  the  '  Good  Natured 
Man '  gave  Goldsmith  a  feeling  of  unlimited  wealth ;  and  he 
took  chambers  consisting  of  tliree  rooms  on  the  second  floor 
of  No.  2  Briclc  Court,  Middle  Tem^jle,  — 

on  tlie  right  hand  ascending  the  staircase,  and  overlooking  the 
unibragecms  walks  of  the  Temple  Garden.  The  lease  he  pur- 
chased for  i;400,  and  then  went  on  to  furnish  the  j,,^,.,^^,^ 
rooms  with  mahogany  sofas,  card-tables,  and  bookcases,  ^j^'^J'^';.';*!;; 
with  curtains,  mirrors,  and  Willon  carpets.  His  awk- 
ward person  was  also  furnished  in  a  style  befitting  his  apartment; 
for,  in  adilitiou  to  his  suit  of  Tyrian  blocnu  satin  grain,  we  find 
another  charged  about  this  time  in  the  books  of  Mr.  Fill)y,  in 
no  less  gorgeous  terms,  being  'lined  with  silk  and  furnished 
with  gold  buttons.'  Thus  lodged  and  thus  arrayed,  lie  invited 
the  visits  of  liis  most  aristocratic  acquaintances,  and  no  longer 
quailed  beneath  the  courtly  eye  of  Beauclerc.  He  gave  dinners 
to  Johnson,  Percy,  Reynolds,  Bickerstaff,  and  otlier  friends 
of  note,  and  supper-parties  to  J^oung  folks  of  l)oth  sexes.  .  .  . 
Blackstone,  whose  chambers  were  inunediately  below,  and  who 
was  studiously  occupied  on  his  '  Commentaries,'  used  to  com- 
plain of  the  racket  made  l)y  '  his  revelling  neighbor.' 

In  188.5  No.  2  Brick  Court  was  precisely  as  Goldsmith  left  it 
when  carried  to  his  grave.  His  ciiambers  have  been  changed 
as  to  furniture  and  equipments,  of  course,  by  the  several 
generations  who  have  followed  liim  as  their  occupants;  but 
the  house  (erected  in  1704)  and  tlie  little  court  are  the 
house  and  court  he  knew  so  well. 

Goldsmith's  country  home  for  a  number  of  years  was  at 


122  OLIV-Kll    (lOI.DSMiril.  [172S-1774, 

Canonburv  House,  in  Islington,  which  then  wa.-i  ;i  suburl) 
of  London.  Nothing  was  left  of  the  house,  even  in  (Gold- 
smith's day,  lint  the  old  brick  tower,  still  standing  in  1885, 
ill  Cauonbury  Square,  at  the  junction  of  Conipton  Koad  and 
Canonbury  Place,  and  one  of  the  most  picturesque  old  struc- 
tures in  the  metropolis.  It  was  a  favorite  resort  of  pub- 
lishers, authors,  and  literary  men.  Irving,  in  his  '  Life  of 
Goldsmith,'  relates  his  visit  to  Canonbury  Tower,  and  de- 
scribes the  painted  wainscots  and  gothic  windows  of  (Gold- 
smith's sitting-room,  where,  no  doubt,  he  gathered  and 
entertained  Johnson  and  his  coterie.  It  is  said  that  parts 
of  'The  Deserted  Village'  and  'The  Ti-aveller'  wei-e 
written  here. 

Goldsmith  also  spent  portions  of  the  summei's  of  1771, 
1772,  and  1774  —  in  the  last  year  only  a  few  weeks  before  his 
death  —  in  a  farm-house  on  the  west  side  of  the  Edgeware 
Road,  '  near  the  six-mile  stone  '  from  London,  where  he  wrote 
'  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  '  and  '  Animated  Nature.' 

Goldsmith  died,  and  was  buried,  where  the  happiest  and 
most  peaceful  years  of  his  life  had  been  spent,  in  the  Temple. 
The  end  came  on  the  4th  of  April,  1  774. 

His  death  was  a  shock  to  the  literary  world,  and  a  deep  afflic- 
tion to  a  wide  circle  of  intimates  and  friends  ;  for,  with  all   liis 

,    .    ,  foibles  and  peculiarities,  he  was  fullv  as  nuich  beloved 

Irvins  s  . 

Goldsmith,  as  he  was  admired.  Burke,  on  hearing  the  news,  burst 
into  tears.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  threw  l>y  his  jiencil 
for  the  da)'^,  and  grieved  more  than  he  had  done  in  times  of  great 
family  distress.  .  .  .  Johnson  felt  the  blow  deeply  and  gloomily. 
In  writing  some  time  afterward  to  Boswell,  he  observed,  '  Of  poor 
Goldsmith  there  is  little  to  be  told  more  tlian  the  papers  have 
made  public.  He  died  of  a  fever,  made,  I  am  afraid,  more  violent 
by  luieasiness  of  mind.  His  debts  began  to  be  heavy,  and  all  his 
resources  w'ere  e.xhausted.  Sir  Joshua  is  of  opinion  that  he  owed 
no  less  than  two  thousand  pounds.  Was  ever  poet  so  trusted 
before  ? ' 


1728-1774.]  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  123 

Goldsmith's  funeral  took  place  at  five  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  9th  of  April,  when  his  staircase  on  Brick  Conrt  was 
crowded  with  moui*ners  of  all  ranks  raid  conditions  of  life, 
conspicuous  among  them  being  the  outcasts  of  both  sexes, 
who  loved  and  wept  for  him  because  of  the  goodness  he  had 
done.  The  exact  position  of  Goldsmith's  grave  is  not  known. 
The  plain  monument  with  the  simple  inscription,  '  Here 
Lies  Oliver  Goldsmith,'  was  placed,  in  1860,  on  the  north 
side  of  the  Temple  Church,  as  near  as  possible  to  the  spot 
where  his  remains  are  supposed  to  lie. 

Goldsmith  was  a  member  of  many  chibs,  notably,  of  The 
Club,  afterwards  called  The  Literary  Club,  which  was 
founded  by  Dr.  Johnson,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and  others,  in 
17G3.  It  originally  met  in  the  Turk's  Head  Tavern,  which 
then  stood  on  the  corner  of  Greek  and  Compton  Streets, 
Soho,  but  was  subsequently  removed  to  Gerard  Street,  hard 
by  (see  Johnson). 

'  I  believe  Mr.  Fox  will  allow  me  to  say,'  remarked  the  Bishop  of 
St.  Asaph,  '  that  the  honor  of  being  elected  into  the  Turk's  Head 
Club  is  not  inferior  to  that  of  being  representative  of  ppr,^gj.,g 
Westminster  and  Surrey.'     The  Bishop  had  just  been  Goldsmith, 

Till         11     Ijook  iii- 
elected  ;  but  into  such  lusty  independence  had  the  club 

sprung  up  that  bishops,  even  lord  chancellors,  were  known  to  have 

knocked  for  admission  unsuccessfully. 

He  [Johnson]  and  Mr.  Langton  and  I  went  together  to  The 

Club  (1773),  where  we  found  Mr.  Burke,  Mr.  Garrick,  and  some 

other  members,   and  amongst  them  our  friend  Gold-  g^^^^.^jj-^ 

smith,  who  sat  brooding  over  Johnson's  I'eprimand  to  Life  of  Jolin- 

liim  after   dinner.     Johnson  perceived  this,  and  said 

aside  to  some  of  us,  '  I  '11  make  Goldsmith  forgive  me,'  and  then 

called  to  him  in  a  loud  voice,  'Dr.  Goldsmith,  something  passed 

to-day  where  you  and  I  dined ;  I  ask  your  pardon.'     Goldsmith 

answered  placidly,  '  It  must  be  much  from  you,  sir,  that  I  take 

ill  ; '  and  so  at  once  the  difference  was  over,  and  they  were  on  as 

easy  terms  as  ever,  and  Goldsmith  rattled  away  as  usual. 


124  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  [1728-1774. 

A  less  important  club  of  liis  inct  at  the  (lldbe  Tavern, 
No.  134  Fleet  Street,  not  far  from  Shoo  Lane,  and  since 
destroyed. 

Anotlier  of  these  free-and-easy  clubs  met  on  Wednesday  even- 
iuars  at  the  Tdobe.  It  was  somewhat  in  tlie  style  of  tlie  Three 
,    .    ,  Jollv  Pigeons  ;   soiiij;s,  jokes,  dramatic  imitiitioiis,  bur- 

(ioiilsmith,  le.S([ue  parodies,  and  In-oad  sallies  ol  luuiKir  ibrmed  a 
i.ii>. .  1. .  (.Qjiti-ast  to  the  sententious  morality,  ]icdaiitic  casuistry, 
and  polished  sarcasm  of  the  learned  critic.  .  .  .  Johnson  used  to  be 
severe  upon  Goldsmith  for  mingling  in  these  motley  circles,  observ- 
ing that  having  been  originally  poor  he  had  contracted  a  love  for 
low  company.  Goldsmith,  however,  was  guided  not-  liy  a  taste 
ibr  what  was  low,  but  what  was  comic  and  cliaiacteristic. 

He  belonged  also  to  a  card  club  at  the  Devil  Tavern, 
No.  1  Fleet  Street  (see  Jonson)  ;  to  the  Tlobin  Hood  De- 
bating Club,  held  in  the  Robin  Hood  Tavern,  Essex  Street, 
Strand,  afterwards  removed  to  the  Robin  Hood  Tavern  in 
Butcher  Row,  behind  St.  Clement  Danes,  and  taken  down 
on  the  erection  of  the  New  Law  Courts  (see  Burke,  p.  28) ; 
and  also  to  '  a  shilling  rubber  club,'  which  n)et  at  the  Bed- 
ford, Covent  Garden  (see  Churchill,  p.  HI). 

Goldsmith's  taverns  were  more  numerous  even  than  his 
clubs.  In  1757  his  letters  were  addressed  to  the  '  Temple 
Exchange  Coffee  House,  near  Temple  Bar,'  no  sign  of  which 
is  left. 

He  was  frequently  at  the  Mitre,  No.  39  Fleet  Street 
(see  Johnson),  at  the  Grecian,  Devereux  Court,  Strand 
(see  Addison,  p.  7),  at  the  Chapter  Coffee  House,^  No.  50 
Paternoster  Row  (see  Brontjo,  p.  22,  and  Chatterton,  p.  44), 
and  at  Jack's  Coffee  House,  afterwards  Walker's,  at  the  corner 
of  Dean  and  Queen  Streets,  Soho. 

Walker's  Hotel  was  — 

in    1770   the  oldest   tavern   in    London,    but  three,   and  is  now 
[184.')]  probably  the  oldest.     ^Ir.  Walker,  the  present  landlord 


1728-1774.]  OLIVER   GOLDSMITH.  125 

of  this  hotel,  who  has  lived  in  it  fifty  years  and  has  now  reached 

the  venerable  age  of  ninety,  is  prcjud  of  the  ancient 

honors  of  the   house.     On  his  card  he   duly   informs  Homes  and 

Lis   friends  that   it    was  here  that  Johnson,    Garrick,  tf,e"j"rfti'!.^| 

Goldsmith,  and  other  literary  characters  of  eminence  I'oets,  vol .  i : 
'  ,    •'  .  1         .  Goldsmitli. 

used  to  resort.     The  house  is  old,  spacious,  and  quiet. 

Dr.  Joseph  Rogers,  an  old  resident  of  Soho  Square,  in 
reply  to  inquiries  about  this  ancient  tavern,  kindlj^  furnislies 
the  following  information  :  — 

Walker's  Hotel  consisted  of  five  houses,  two  iu  Dean  Street 
and  three  in  Queen  Street.  The  proprietor,  when  I  first  knew 
him,  now  [1883]  neai'l}^  forty  years  ago,  was  a  very  old  man. 
He  had  not  tlie  wit  to  adapt  himselt  to  modern  notions,  and 
continued  to  carry  on  his  business  in  the  old  style  until  his 
business  left  him.  At  the  time  I  made  his  acquaintance  he  was 
nearly  insolveiiL  He  was  ultimately  ejected  from  the  premises, 
and  died  at  the  workhouse  of  the  Strand  Union,  at  the  advancj^d 
age  of  junety-five.  When  I  took  the  premises,  N-o.  33  Deau  Street 
(corner  of  Queen  Street),  now  thirty-four  years  ago,  tlie  poor  old 
man  led  me  over  the  jilace  and  showed  me  the  different  rooms. 
He  pointed  out  that  in  my  first-floor  front  room,  Goldsmith, 
Johnson,  and  others  used  to  meet.  He  also  told  me  that  in  the 
four-post  bed  in  the  said  room  Nelson  slept  the  night  before  he 
embarked  from  Portsmouth  to  fight  the  battle  of  Trafalgar.  He 
took  me  into  his  cellars,  and  showed  me  some  whiskey  he  had  put 
down  in  1800.  There  is  no  doubt  of  the  truth  of  this,  and  you 
can  make  use  of  the  information  as  yoxi  see  fit.  The  present 
Queen's  Hotel  (No.  12  Queen  Street)  was  the  bar  of  the  old  hoteL 
The  two  houses  beyond  were  simpl>^  used  as  lodging-houses. 

Goldsmith  wrote  'A  Reverie'  at  tlie  lioar's  Head  Tavern, 
Shakspere's  Roar's  Head,  in  Etistcheap  (Cannon  Street), 
which  stood  at  the  junction  of  that  thoroughfare  nnd  Grace- 
chnrch  Street,  and  was  taken  down  wlien  King  William 
Street  was  formed,  in  18-31.  Its  site  is  occupied  by  the 
statue  to  William  IV. 


126  JOHN   GOWER.  [1325-1108. 

One  of  his  favorite  suburban  taverns  was  the  Old  Ked 
Lion,  still  standing-  in  \HS5,  which,  according  to  the  in- 
scription in  curious  old  English  letters  along  its  renewed 
front,  was  'established  in  1415.'  It  is  at  No.  18G  St.  John's 
Street  Road,  Islington,  near  the  junction  of  Pentonville 
Road,  City  Road,  and  High  Sti-eet.  It  has  been  restored  ; 
but  the  old  pointed  gables  and  general  antique  style  are 
retained. 

He  spent  much  of  his  leisure  time,  also,  at  the  Old  Bap- 
tist's Head,  No.  30  St.  John's  Lane,  Clerkenwell,  on  the  site 
of  which  a  new  tavern  bearing  the  same  name  was  erected 
a  few  years  ago  ;  and  at  the  White  Conduit  Tea  Gardens, 
which  stood  on  the  east  side  of  Penton  Street,  Pentonville, 
imtil  184:9.  A  new  White  Conduit  Tavern,  in  1885,  was  at 
No.  l\  Darnsbury  Road,  Penton  Street. 


JOHN   GOWEPt. 

Circa  1325-1408. 

/^"^  OWER,  who  is  said  to  have  been  a  member  of  the 
^-^  Middle  Temple  (see  Chaucer,  ]).  46),  seems  to  have 
seen  but  little  of  London,  and  no  traces  of  his  early  life 
here  ai-e  to  be  found.  It  is  believed  that  he  was  married 
in  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  Overy,  now  St.  Saviour's,  South- 
wnrk,  in  1397,  by  William  of  Wickham,  then  Bishop  of 
Winchester;  and  he  is  known  to  have  sjient  the  last  few 
years  of  bis  life  in  blindness  in  the  priory  of  that  chtu-ch, 
which  he  enriched  by  his  gifts  and  bequests,  and  where  he 
died  and  Avas  buried  (see  Fletcher,  p.  107). 

And  thus  whan   they  hadde   gone   theyr  journey,  the   one  of 
them,  that  is  to   saye,  John    Gower,   prepared   for  his  bones  a 


JOHN    GOSnf.R 


1716-1771.]  THOMAS   GRAY.  127 

restynge  place  in  tlje  monastery  of  Saynt  Mayre  Overies,  where, 

soniewliat  after  the   olde   ffashion    lie  lyeth    vy^ht  sumptuously 

Ijuryed,  with  a  garland  on  his  head  in  token  that  he 

in  his  lyfe  dayes  flouryshe<I  freshely  in  literature  and  Berti'ieiet''s 

science,  and  the  same  monument  in  remembraunce  of  S'^''''""  "* 

hym  erected,   is   on   tlie  north  syde  of  the   foresayde 

churche  in  the  chapell  of  Saynte  John,  where  he  hath  of  his  own 

foundation  a  masse  dayly  songe. 

John  Gower,  Esquire,  a   famous   poet,  was   then   an   especial 

benefactor  to  that  work,  and  was  there  buried  in  the  north  side 

of  that  church,  in  the  chapel  of  St.  John,  where  he  „^     , 
'  _    ^  Stow  s 

founded  a  chantry  ;  he  lieth  under  a  tomb  of  stone,  survey  of 
with  his  image  also  of  stone  over  him  ;  the  hair  of  his  Edition 'of 
head,  auburn,  long  to   liis  shoulders,  but   curling  up  ^^*''^- 
and  a  small  forked  beard:  on  his  head  a  chaplet  like  a  coronet 
of  four  roses  ;  a  habit  of  purple   damasked  down   to    his   feet  ; 
a  collar  of  esses  gold  about  his  neck  ;  under  his  head  the  likeness 
of  three  books  which  he  compiled. 

Gower's  monument,  for  so  many  years  in  the  Chapel  of 
St.  John,  was  repaired  and  recolored  in  1832,  and  removed 
to  the  south  transept  of  the  ohnrcb.  The  canons  of  the  St. 
Mary  Overy  continued  to  perform  '  a  yearly  obit  to  his  mem 
ory'  for  a  long  time,  and  to  attach  to  his  tomb  a  notice  say- 
ing that  '  Whosoever  prayeth  for  the  soul  of  John  Gower,  he 
shall,  so  oft  as  he  soe  doth,  have  an  M  and  a  D  of  pardon.' 


THOMAS   GEAY. 

171G-1771. 

^  RAY'S  associations  with  London  were  slight  and  acci- 
^^  dental.  He  was  born  on  the  26th  of  November,  171G, 
in  the  house  of  his  father,  a  money-scrivener,  on  the  sourh 
side  of  Cornhill.     This  house,  which  stood    on   the   site  of 


128  THOMAS   GRAY.  [1710-1771. 

No.  41  Cornliill,  between  l>irchiii  Laiio  and  St.  jVIichael's 
Church,  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1748.  After  lie  went  to 
Etiiu  lie  never  had  a  permanent  home  in  the  metropolis, 
lint  lorlged  during  his  oecasional  visits,  as  his  letters  show, 
at  a  hosier's  named  Koberts,  at  the  east  end  of  Jcrmyn 
Street,  near  the  Haymarket ;  or  at  '  Frisby  the  Oilman's,' 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  way.  The  names  of  botli 
Frisby  and  IJoberts  are  to  be  found  in  the  early  directo- 
ries, but  before  streets  were  numbered.  Here  he  paid  not 
more  than  half  a  guinea  a  week  for  his  rooms,  and  dined 
at  a  neighboring  coffee-house. 

In  1759  Gray  lodged  in  Southampton  Row,  Bloomsbnry 
Square,  near  the  then  new  British  Museum,  to  the  lieading 
Room  of  which  he  was  a  frequent  visitor. 

Gray,  from    his  bedroom  window,  looked  out  on  a  southwest 
garden  wall,  covered  with  flowering  jessamine  through  June  and 
July.      There    had    been    roses,   too,    in    this    London 
Gosse's  garden.     Gray  must  always  have  liowei's  about  Iiiin, 

EnWish  Men  ''^'^^^  ^^  trudged  down  to  Covent  Garden  every  day  for 
of  Letters,      j^|g  sweet  peas  and  pinks  and  scarlet  Martown  lilies, 

chap.  vu.  1  i  _  _  . 

double  stocks  and  flowering  marjoram.  His  drawing- 
room  looked  over  Bedford  Gardens,  and  a  fine  stretch  of  upland 
fields  crowned  at  last  against  the  sky  by  the  villages  of  Highgate 
and  Harapstead. 

A  letter  of  Gray  to  Walpole,  written  in  1737,  shows  him 
to  have  been  at  that  time  an  inmate  of  his  uncle's  house  at 
Burnham,  and  expresses  his  interest  in  '  the  most  venerable 
beeches  and  other  very  reverend  vegetables  who  dream  out 
their  old  stories  to  the  winds  '  in  the  forest  there.  During 
his  residence  at  Stoke,  Burnham  Beeches  were  his  frequent 
resort. 

West  End,  the  house  in  which  Gray's  mother  lived,  and  he 
wrote  much  poetry  and  many  letters,  now  [187()]  called  Stoke 
Court,  is  about  one  mile  north  of  the  church.     Gray  described 


THOMAS   GRAY. 


1794-1871.]  GEORGE   GROTE.  12lJ 

it  as  '  a   compact  neat  box  of  red  brick,  with  sash  windows,  a 
grotto  made  of  flints,  a  walnut-tree  with  three  mole-hills  under 
it.'     The  house  was  rebuilt  by  Mr.  Penn  al)uut  1845, 
on  a  larger  scale,  and  is  now  a  gentleman's  villa.     The  jfa^K^Book 
room  in  which  Gray  wrote  was,  however,  preserved,  ^'ftiieEn- 

•'  '  '    ^  '   viroiis  of 

and  forms  a  part  of  the  present  house.     The  walnut-   LuiKlim  : 

tree  and  grotto  were  retained,  and  the  basin  of  gold-  '     ^       °  ^' 

fishes  greatly  enlarged. 

The  house  in  Gray's  time  was  built  of  brick,  and  was  three 
stories  in  heig'ht.  It  was  afterwards  covered  with  stucco, 
forming  only  a  snuiU  wing  to  the  right  of  the  more  pretentious 
mansion  added  to  it  by  Mr.  Penn.  The  present  occupants 
have  no  knowledge  of  the  walnut-tree  or  tlie  grotto. 

Gray's  devotion  to  his  motlier  and  to  her  memory  is  well 
known.  SIio  was  buried  in  Stoke  Pogis  Churchyard,  which 
is  without  question  the  churchyard  of  the  '  Elegy,'  to  the  east 
of  the  church,  and  under  a  stone  bearing  his  touching  testi- 
mony that  she  was  '  The  careful  tender  mother  of  many 
children,  one  of  whom  alone  had  the  misfortune  to  survive 
her.'  Gray,  at  his  own  request,  rests  his  head  upon  tlie  lap 
of  earth  by  her  side. 


GEOIiGE   GROTE. 

1794-1871. 

r^  EORGE  GROTE  was  born  at  Shortlands  near  Becken- 
^-'^  ham,  in  Kent,  about  ten  miles  from  London.  After 
four  years  in  the  Grammar  School  at  Sevenoaks,  he  was  sent 
to  the  Charter  House  School  (see  Addison,  p.  1),  where 
he  remained  until  he  was  sixteen,  and  where  it  is  recorded 
that  at  that  age  he  was  well  flogged  for  giving  a  farewell 


loO  GEORGE    (;I{()TE.  [1794-1871. 

sui)per,  just  before  leaving  school,  to  some  of  his  classmates, 
at  the  Albion  Tavern  —  still  standing  in  1885  — at  No.  172 
Aldcrsgate  Street. 

At  the  age  of  sixteen  Grote  entered  the  banking  establish- 
ment of  his  fiithcr,  No.  G2  Threadneedle  Street.  He  lived 
with  his  father  in  the  banking-house  until  he  was  married, 
in  1820,  when  he  took  possession  of  a  house  '  in  the  court 
adjoining.'  Tliis  was  his  town  home  for  many  years,  and 
here  the  '  History  of  Greece  '  was  designed  and  begun,  lie 
and  his  wife  were  often  to  be  found  in  the  Drapers'  CJarden 
hard  by  (see  Macaulay),  which  had  been  the  breathing-place 
of  his  fellow  historian. 

Direct  successors  of  the  Grotes  were  still  doing  business 
in  1885  on  the  site  of  the  original  banking-house,  on  Thread- 
needle  Street,  corner  of  Bartholomew  Lane.  The  '  adjoining- 
court,'  simply  so  described  in  the  biography  of  Grote,  was 
either  Capel  Court,  by  its  side,  in  Bartholomew  Lane,  or 
New  Court,  or  Shooter's  Court,  on  Throgmorton  Street,  in 
its  rear.  The  appearance  of  the  entire  block  of  buildings 
has  been  greatly  changed  of  late  years  by  the  erection 
and  extensions  of  the  Stock  Exchange  and  other  business 
houses. 

The  Grotes  had  different  suburban  homes,  —  at  Fortis 
Green,  beyond  Highgate ;  on  the  Green  Lane,  Stoke-New- 
ington,  near  the  New  River ;  at  Burnham  ;  and  at  Dulwich, 
half  a  mile  beyond  Dulwich  College.  In  1836  Grote  moved 
to  No.  3  Eccleston  Street,  Belgrave  Square,  —  an  imposing 
mansion,  numbered  3  Belgrave  Place  in  1885, — and  in 
1848  to  No.  12  Savile  Row,  Burlington  Gardens,  where,  in 
1871,  he  died.     This  house  was  standing  in  1885. 

He  was  buried  in  Thirlwall's  grave,  in  the  Poets'  Corner 
of  Westminster  Abbey. 


177S-1830.]  WILLIAM   HAZLITT.  131 

HENKY   HALLAM. 

1777-78-1859. 

T  TALLAM  was  a  Bencher  of  the  Middle  Temple.  In 
1819,  and  latei',  he  occupied  an  old-fashioned  mansion 
at  Fulham,  called  Arundel  House,  which  in  1885  was  still 
standing,  although  somewhat  altered,  on  Fulham  Koad,  op- 
posite Parson's  Green  Lane. 

He  wrote  his  'History  of  the  Middle  Ages'  at  No.  67 
Wimpole  Sti-eet,  near  Queen  Anne  Street,  Cavendish  Square, 
his  home  for  many  years. 

He  was  a  frequent  partaker  of  the  dinners  of  the  Literary 
Club  (see  Goldsmith,  p.  123). 


WILLIAM   HAZLITT. 

1778-1830. 

T  T  AZLITT  had  no  settled  home  of  his  own  in  London 
until  after  his  marriage,  in  1808 ;  but  during  his 
occasional  visits  to  town  he  lodged  with  his  brother  John, 
at  No.  12  Rathbone  Place,  Oxford  Street,  in  a  house  rebuilt 
in  1883,  and  later  at  No.  109  Great  Russell  Street,  Blooms- 
bury  Square,  in  a  house  which  formed  part  of  the  old 
Tavistock  House,  but  has  now  entirely  disappeared. 

Hazlitt  was  married  to  Miss  Sarah  Stoddart,   on  the  1st  of 
May,  1808,  at  St.  Andrew's,  Holborn,  now  on  the  Viaduct. 

The  only  persons  present  at  the  marriage,  so  far  as  I  can  recol- 
lect, were  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Stoddart,  and  Mr.  and  Miss  Lamb  ;   but 
1  strongly  suspect  there  were  other  guests  of  whom  there  is  no 
13 


132  WILLIAM    IIAZLITT.  [1778-1830. 

remaining  record.  Lamb,  in  a  letter  to  Southey,  dated  August 
9,  1815,  more  than  seven  years  after  the  event,  thus  alludes  to  his 

having  been  jiresent:  '  I  was  at  Hazlitt's  marriage,  and 
William  I'^^'l  liked  to  have  been  turned  out  several  times  during 

?* '•h'l'l'xT'^  the  ceremony.     Anything  awful  makes  me  laugh.'     It 

was  not  an  every-day  kind  of  business  this,  with  Wil- 
liam Hazlitt  for  bridegroom,  and  Charles  Lamb  for  best  man,  and 
Miss  Lamb  for  bridesmaid  ;  and  all  of  a  Sunday  morning  I  I 
wonder  whether  Elia  appeared  at  the  altar  in  his  snuff-colored 
smalls.  I  wonder  whether  Miss  Lamb  wore,  after  all,  the  S2)rig 
dress,  or  the  China-Manning  silk,  or  a  real  white  gown  ?  I  won- 
der in  what  way  Lamb  misbehaved,  so  as  to  leave  a  strong  impres- 
sion on  his  mind  —  years  after?  To  have  been  in  St.  Andrew's 
that  day,  and  to  have  seen  the  whole  thing  from  a  good  place, 
would  have  been  a  recollection  worth  cherishing. 


'o 


In  1812  Hazlitt  and  his  wife  took  possession  of  the  house 
No.  19  York  Street,  Westminster,  which  had  been  occupied 
by  John  Milton;  and  here  they  lived  until  1819.  This 
house  was  taken  down  in  1877.  It  faced  on  York  Street 
in  Hazlitt's  day,  a  few  doors  east  of  the  spot  where  the 
Westminster  Panorama  was  afterwards  built ;  and  the  gar- 
den in  its  rear  formed  part  of  the  lawn  of  Queen  Anne 
Mansions  in  1885  (see  Milton). 

On  knocking  at  the  door  [No.  19  York  Street,  Westminster],  it 
was,  after  a  long  interval,  opened  by  a  sufficiently  neat-handed  do- 
mestic.    The  outer  door  led  immediately  from  the  street 
ni'nre's  My     (down  a  step)  into  an  empty  apartment,  indicating  an 
Friends  and    ^uninhabited  house,  and  I  supposed  I  had  mistaken  the 

Acquaint-  '  ■'  ^ 

aiices, vol.  number;  but  on  asking  for  the  object  of  my  search, 
I  was  shown  to  a  door,  which  opened  (a  step  from  the 
ground)  on  to  a  ladder-like  staircase,  bare  like  the  rest,  which  led 
to  a  dark,  bare  landing-place  and  thence  to  a  large  square  wain- 
scoted apartment.  The  great  curtainless  windows  of  this  room 
looked  upon  some  dingy  trees  ;  the  whole  of  the  wall  over  and 
about  the  chimney-piece  was  entirely  covered,  up  to  the  ceiling, 
by  names  written  in  pencil,  of  all  .size.s  and  characters,  and  in  all 


"WILLIAM    IIAZLITT. 


1778-1830.]  WILLIAM   IIAZLITT  133 

directions,  commemorative  of  visits  of  curiosity  to  the  home  of 
Pindarus  (John  Miltf)ii).  There  was  near  to  the  empty  fireplace 
a  table  with  breakfast  things  upon  it  (though  it  was  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon).  Three  chairs  and  a  sofa  were  standing  about 
the  room,  and  one  unbound  book  lay  on  the  mantel-piece.  At 
the  table  sat  Hazlitt,  and  on  the  sofa  a  lady,  whom  I  found  to  be 
his  wife. 

Once  I  dined  with  him  [Hazlitt].     This  (an  unparalleled  occur- 
rence) was  in  York  Street,  vflien  some  friends  had  sent  him  a 
couple  of  Dorking  fowls,  of  which  he  suddenly  invited 
me  to  partake.     1  went  expecting  the  usual  sort  of  Recoiiec- 
dinner,  but   it  was  limited  solely  to  the  fowls   and  ^f  Lettere''" 
bread.     He  drank  nothing  but  water,  and  there  was 
nothing  but  water  to  drink.     He  offered  to  send  for  some  porter 
for  me  ;   but  being  out  of  health  at  the  time  I  declined,  and 
escaped   after  dinner   to   a   coft'ee-house,    where    I   strengthened 
myself  with  a  few  glasses  of  wine. 

In  1820  Hazlitt  was  living  in  apartments  at  No.  9  South- 
ampton BuikUngs,  a  short  street  running  crookedly  between 
Holborn  and  Chancery  Lane.  No.  9,  on  the  west  side  of 
the  street,  and  nine  doors  from  Holborn,  was  taken  down 
in  1883.  He  had  in  1820  finally  separated  from  his  first 
wife.  His  changes  of  residence  after  the  breaking  up  of  his 
York  Street  home  were  many.  Mi'.  Patmore  found  him  in 
1824  in  Down  Street,  Piccadilly,  and  pleasantly  describes 
his  erratic  life  there,  his  late  rising,  his  musing  during  the 
greater  part  of  his  days  at  the  breakfast-table,  and  his 
stimulating  himself  to  excess  with  very  strong  tea.  About 
1827  he  lodged  at  No.  40  Half  Moon  Street,  Piccadilly,  in 
a  house  no  longer  standing;  in  1829  he  removed  to  No.  3 
Bouverie  Street,  Fleet  Sti'eet,  —  raised  one  story  in  1885; 
and  in  1830  he  went  to  No.  6  Frith  Street,  Soho,  where  in 
the  same  year  he  died. 

One  Saturday  afternoon   in    September  [Sept.    18,  Memoirs  of 

•^  .     "^  L      1  7    William 

1830],  when  Charles  Lamb  was  in  the  room,  the  scene  Hazlitt,  part 
closed.     He  [Hazlitt]  died  so  rpiietly  that  his  son,  who  "'  ^^^^^  """■ 


134  WILLIAM    lL\ZLrrT.  [1778-1830. 

was  sitting  by  his  bedside,  did  not  know  that  he  was  gone  till 
the  vital  breath  had  been  extinct  a  moment  or  two. 

Tlie  house  in  wliicli  JIazlitt  died  was,  in  1885,  standinir 
unchanged. 

Tlio  grave  of  Hazlitt  is  iu  the  yard  of  8t.  Anne's  Church, 
Wardour  and  Deau  Streets,  Soho.  Against  the  centre  wall 
of  the  church  on  the  Wardour  Street  side,  and  on  the  riglit 
hand  as  you  enter  the  yard,  is  a  flat  stone  standing  under 
that  of  the  King  of  Corsica.  The  inscription  is  so  renjark- 
able  that  it  is  given  here  in  full :  — 

Kear  This  Spot 

Rests 
William  Hazlitt 
Born  April  lOtli,  1778.     Died  Sept.  18th,  1830. 
He  lived  to  see  his  deepest  wishes  gratified 
As  he  expressed  tliem  iu  his  Essay 
'  Ou  The  Fear  of  Death  ' 
viz  : 
'  To  .see  the  downfall  of  the  Bourbons, 
And  some  prospect  of  good  in  mankind. 

(Charles  X 
Was  driven  from  France  29th  July,  1830) 
'  To  leave  some  sterling  work  to  the  W^orld ' 
He  lived  to  complete  his  '  Life  of  Napoleon  " 

His  desire 
That  some  friendly  hand  should 
consign  him  to  the  grave,  was  accomplished  to  a 
limited  but  profound  e.xtent  ;  on  these  conditions 
He  was  ready  to  depart,  and  to  have  inscribed 
on  his  tomb, 
Grateful  and  Contented. 
He  was 
The  first  (unanswered)  Metaphysician  of  the  Age  ; 
A  despiser  of  the  merely  Eich  and  Great, 
A  lover  of  the  People,  Poor,  or  Oppressed  ; 
A  hater  of  the  Pride  and  Power  of  the  Few 
As  ojiposed  til  the  Inijjpiness  of  the  Many. 


1778-1830.]  WILLIAM    IIAZLITT.  135 

A  mail  of  true  Moral  Courage 
To  Principles, 
And  a  Yearning  for  the  good  of  Human  Nature. 
Who  was  a  burning  wound  to  an  Aristocracy 

That  could  not  answer  before  men, 
And  who  may  confront  him  before  their  Maker. 
He  lived  and  died 
The  unconquered  Champion 
of 
Truth,  Liberty  and  Humanity 
'  Dubitantes  opera  legite.' 

This  Stone 
is  raised  by  one  whose  heart 
is  with  him  in  the  grave. 

Hazlitt,  while  living  a  wild,  unsettled  life  in  Southamp- 
ton Biiildhigs,  frequented  the  Southampton  Coifee  House 
in  that  street,  which  he  has  described  in  his  chapter  on 
'Coffee  House  Politicians,'  in  his  'Table  Talk,'  published  in 
1823.  This  tavern,  a  door  or  two  from  Chancery  Lane, 
was 'restored '  in  1882  or  1883,  and  everything  which  be- 
longed to  it  in  Hazlitt's  day  destroyed  by  the  demons  of 
improvement  and  renovation. 

Here  [the  Southampton]  for  several  years  he  used  to  hold  a 
sort  of  evening  levee,  where,  after  a  certain  hour  at  night  (and  till 
a  very  wncertain  hour  in  the  morning)  he  was  always  p^tmore's 
to  he  found,  and  always  more  or  less  ready  to  take  ^J^^  ^'^^'"'^ 
part  in  that  sort  of  desultory  talk   (the   only  thing  quaintances: 
really  deserving  the  name  of  conversation),  in  which  he 
excelled  every  man  I  have  ever  met  with.     Here,  in  that  little 
bare  and  comfortless  coffee-room  have  I  scores  of  times  seen  the 
daylight  peep  through  the  crevices  of  the  window-shutters,  upon 
Table  Talk  that  was  w-orthy  an  intellectual  feast  of  the  gods. 


186  i^oBKirr  jiekkick.  [1591-1674. 

GEOEGE  HERBERT. 

1593-1632. 

r^  EORGE  HERBERT  was  a  pupil  of  Westminster  School 
^-^  (see  Churchill,  p.  51).  In  1609  he  left  A¥estmin- 
ster  to  enter  Cambridge  University,  where,  according  to 
Izaak  Walton,  he  consecrated  the  first  fruits  of  his  early  age 
to  virtue  and  a  serious  study  of  learning.  He  had  but  few 
associations  with  London. 


H 


ROBERT   HERRICK. 

1591-1674. 

ERRICK  was  born  in  Wood  Sti-eet,  Cheapside,  as  he 
sinas  in  his  '  Tears  to  Thamasis,'  — 

'  Golden  Cheapside,  where  the  earth 
Of  Jnlia  Herrick  gave  to  me  my  birth,'  — 

and  was  baptized  in  the  Church  of  St.  Vedast,  in  Foster 
Lane,  hard  by.  This  church  was  destroyed  in  the  Great 
Fire  of  the  next  century,  but  was  rebuilt  by  Wren.  Her- 
rick's  youth,  it  would  seem,  was  spent  in  London ;  but 
he  has  left  no  record  of  his  education,  nor  of  his  early 
life  here,  except  that  when  he  was  about  thirty  years  of 
age,  he  was  adopted  as  one  of  the  '  poeticale  sonnes  '  of 
Ben  Jonson.  In  1G1.5  he  went  to  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge, and  for  twenty  years  lived  a  quiet  and  retired  life  in 
a  country  vicarage  in  Devonshire.  When  deprived  of  this 
by  Cromwell,  he  lodged   for  some  time  in  St.  Anne's  Lane 


ROBERT    HERRICK. 


1799-1845.]  THUMAS   IIUOD.  137 

(now  St.  Aune's  Street),  running  from  Orchard  Street  to 
Great  Peter  Street,  Westminster,  where  he  remained  until 
the  Restoration  ;  but  after  that  London  saw  him  not  again. 
His  '  Hesperides'  was  pubhshed  in  1G48,  'to  be  sold  at  the 
Crown  and  Marygold,  St.  Paul's  Church  Yard,'  a  sign  which 
was  destroyed,  of  course,  eighteen  years  later,  with  the  ca- 
thedral and  all  its  surroundings. 


THOMAS   HOLCROFT. 

'1744-1809. 

T  r  OLCPtOFT  was  born  in  Orange  Court,  Leicester  Fields 
(since  known  as  Orange  Street,  Leicester  Square), 
and  worked  until  he  was  fifteen  years  of  age  at  the  trade  of 
his  father,  a  shoemaker  in  South  Audley  Street.  Few 
recoi'ds  of  his  London  life  have  been  left.  He  died  in  the 
parish  of  INIarylebone."* 


THOMAS   HOOD. 

1799-1845. 

'"pHOMAS  HOOD  was  born  over  the  bookshop  of  Messrs. 
-*-  Vernor  and  Hood,  in  the  Poultry,  on  the  northwest 
corner  of  the  little  lane  called  Chapel  Place,  running  be- 
tween Gi'ocers'  Hall  Court  and  St.  Mildred's  Court.  The 
house  has  been  taken  down.  The  building  upon  its  site  was 
nunil)ei-ed  .31  Poultry  in  188.5. 


138  THOMAS    HOOD.  [179ft-184ii. 

Hood's  hrst  school  was  in  Tokenhoiise  Yard  (No.  45  Loth- 
bury),  and  was  kept  by  tlie  IVlisses  Hogsflesh.  The  brother 
of  tliese  hidies  was  so  painfully  sensitive  regarding  the  family 
name  that  he  never  answered  to  it,  and  the  scholars  were 
instructed  to  address  hiin  by  his  initial  only.  This  story, 
told  in  later  years  by  Hood  to  his  friends,  suggested  to 
Lamb  the  subject  of  his  unfortunate  farce,  '  Mr.  H.' 

Hood  afterwards  went  to  a  school  at  Clapham,  the  site  of 
which  he  once  pointed  out  to  his  son,  but  which  in  his  '  Me- 
morials '  of  his  father  the  younger  Hood  does  not  describe. 

Hood  was  married  in  1824  ;  and  a  letter  of  Charles  Lamb's 
'  To  the  Hoods,  Robert  Street,  Adelphi,'  is  among  the 
correspondence  of  Elia.  This  Eobert  Street  house.  No.  2,  is 
no  longer  standing.  The  Hoods  left  London  in  1829  to 
reside  in  the  country,  and  did  not  return  to  town  for  a 
number  of  years. 

Hood  near  the  end  of  1841  went  to  No.  17  Elm  Tree 
Road,  St.  John's  Wood,  Regent  Park,  where  he  wrote,  fur 
the  Christmas  number  of  'Punch,'  1843,  'The  Song  of 
the  Shirt.'  This  house,  a  rigid,  uncompromising  three- 
story  mansion,  was  standing  in  1885  at  the  curve  of  the 
street,  and  was  called  '  The  Cedars.' 

After  his  removal  to  St.  John's  Wood,  my  father  used  to  have 

little  modest  dinners  now  and  then,  to  which  his  intimate  friends 

were  invited.     Though  the  board  did  not  groan,  sides 

of  Thoi'ims     ^^sed  to  ache  ;  and  if  the  champagne  did  not  flow  in 

Hofd,  streams,  the  wit  sparkled  to  make  up  for  it.  .  .  .  On 

chap.  IX.  '  ^  '■ 

one  occasion,  to  my  mother's  horror,  the  boy  fell  upstairs 
with  the  plum  pudding.  The  accident  formed  a  peg  for  many  jokes  ; 
amongst  others,  a  declaration  that  the  pudding  —  which  he  said 
w^as  a  stair,  not  a  cabinet,  one  —  had  disagreed  with  him,  and  that 
he  felt  the  pattern  of  the  stair-carpet  breaking  out  all  over  him. 

Early  in  the  year  1844  the  Hoods  went  to  Finchley 
Road. 


THOJIAS    HOOD. 


1799-1845.]  THOMAS    HOOD.  139 

My  new  house  is  at  Devonshire  Lodge,  New  Finchley  Road, 
St.  John's  Wood,  where  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  see  you  ;  it  is 
iust  beyond  the  Eyre  Anns,  three  doors  short  of  the  jj^^^^^i^jg 
turnpike.     The  Magazine  office  [Hood's  Magazine]  is  of  Thomas 
No.    1    Adam   Street,  Adelphi,   and  I  am   sometimes  char-'xii. 
there  of  a  morning. 

jS"o.  1  Adam  Street,  Adelphi,  is  at  the  corner  of  Adelphi 
Terrace.  There  is  no  Devonshire  Lodge  in  Finchley  Road. 
The  turnpike  was  afterwards  called  Queen's  Eoad,  and  Hood's 
house  was  probably  taken  down  to  make  room  for  the  rail- 
way station. 

Hood  died  at  Devonshire  Lodge,  May  3,  1845,  and  on  the 
10th  was  buried  in  Kensal  Green. 

His  funeral  was  quiet  and  private,  though  attended  by  many 
who  had  known  and   loved   him.  .  .   .  Eighteen  months   after- 
wards his  faithful  wife  was  buried  by  his   side.  .  .  . 
I  have  a  perfect  recollection  of  my  father's  funeral,  and  o/xiKmias 
of  the  unfeigned  sorrow  of  those   kind   and  beloved  H""J.  ... 

°  _  chap.  xuL 

friends  who  attended  it.     It  was  a  beautiful  spring  day  ; 
and  I  remember  it  was  noticed  that  just  as  the  service  concluded, 
a  lark  rose  up,  mounting  and  singing  over  our  heads.     This  was 
in  the  middle  of  the  day. 

The  monument  to  Hood  in  Kensal  Green  was  erected  by 
public  subscription,  at  the  suggestion  of  Eliza  Cook,  and  was 
unveiled  by  Lord  Houghton,  July  18,  1854.  The  simple 
epitaph  was  of  his  own  selecting  :  'He  sang  "The  Song  of 
the  Shirt."' 


1-40  'rUKODOUK    HOOK.  [1788-1811. 


H 


THEODOEE   HOOK. 

1788-1841. 
0()K  was  born  in  Charlotte  Street,  Bedford  Square. 


Met  Hook  in  the  Burlington  Arcade  ;  walked  witli  liini  to  tlic 
British  Museum.     As  we  passed  down  Great  Russell  Street,  Hook 

paused  on  arriving  at  Charlotte  Street,  Bedford  Square, 
Lettej's'ofR.  and,  pointing  to  the  northwest  corner  nearly  opposite 
R  Bariiaui,    ^q  i\^q  house  (the  second  from  the  corner)  in   which 

he  himself  was  born,  observed,  '  There  by  that  lamp- 
post stood  Martha  the  Gypsy.' 

Bedford  Square  and  its  immediate  neighborhood  have  seen 
but  few  changes  daring  the  last  hundred  years,  although 
Charlotte  Street  in  Hook's  babyhood  included  the  present 
Bloomsbury  Street. 

Hook  went  to  school  in  Soho  Square,  at  '  a  green-doored, 
brass-plated  establishment,'  the  number  of  which  he  does 
not  give,  but  which  might  be  any  one  of  half  a  dozen  simi- 
lar houses  answering  to  that  description,  and  standing  in 
1885,  as  they  had  stood  a  century  earlier,  on  different  sides 
of  the  green.  Here,  according  to  his  own  storj',  he  was  a 
regular  truant,  walking  about  the  neighboring  streets  during 
school  hours,  and  inventing  excuses  for  his  unlawful  absence. 

Hook  had  no  settled  home  in  London  when  in  1810  he  per- 
petrated his  famous  joke,  known  as  the  '  Berners  Street 
Hoax.'  Mrs.  Tottingham,  the  unhappy  victim,  lived  at  No. 
54  Berners  Street  (running  from  Oxford  Street,  northerly  to 
Mortimer  Street  and  the  Middlesex  Hospital),  when  there 
came  to  her  door  hundreds  of  tradespeople  bearing  goods  of 
all  sizes  and  descriptions,  from  a  mahogany  coffin  to  an  ounce 


THEODORE  HOOK. 


1788-1811.]  THEODOKE    HOOK.  141 

of  snufF,  ordered  by  Hook,  in  her  name,  to  be  delivered  at 
the  same  hour ;  while  at  the  same  hour,  at  the  invitation 
of  Mrs,  Tottingham  {per  T.  H.),  came  as  well  bishops,  min- 
isters of  State,  doctors  in  haste  to  cure  her  bodily  ailments, 
lawyers  to  make  her  will,  barbers  to  shave  her,  mantua- 
makers  to  fit  her,  —  men,  women,  and  children  on  every  con- 
ceivable errand.  The  damage  done  and  the  confusion  created 
were  very  great ;  and  Hook,  who  had  spent  six  weeks  in  con- 
cocting and  elaborating  the  scheme,  witnessed  the  effects 
from  a  safe  window  over  the  way. 

In  1820  Hook  established  the  newspaper  called  'John 
Bull.'  Its  office  was  in  Gough  Square,  Fleet  Street  (see 
Johnson).  At  this  time  he  was  living  in  a  small  cottage 
at  Somers  Town. 

In  1823  he  was  brought  to  England  from  the  Mauritius  in 
disgrace  for  the  misconduct  of  a  deputy  for  which  he  was 
held  responsible,  and  was  imprisoned  in  a  sponging-house 
in  Shire  Lane  (no  longer  in  existence ;  see  Addison,  p.  8), 
where  he  remained  nine  months.  To  a  consoling  friend  who 
congratulated  him  upon  the  comfort  and  brightness  of  his 
prison  apartments,  he  replied,  pointing  to  the  arrangements 
made  to  prevent  escape,  '  Oh,  yes,  the  room  is  cheerful 
enough  barring  the  windows !  '  Subsequently  he  was  re- 
moved to  a  lodging-house  '  within  the  rule  of  King's  Bench 
Prison,'  in  Southwark,  where  he  spent  a  year.  This  house 
was  in  Temple  Place,  a  row  of  buildings  in  the  Blackfriai's 
Poad,  not  far  from  the  Surrey  Theatre. 

After  his  final  discharge  from  arrest,  in  1825,  Hook  hired 
a  cottage  at  Putney;  but  in  1827  he  took  a  larger  and  more 
fashionable  mansion,  No.  5  Cleveland  Row,  directly  oppo- 
site the  Chapel  Royal,  St.  James's,  which  was  still  standing 
in  1885. 

In  1831  Hook  settled  at  Egmont  Villa,  at  Fulham,  where 
the  rest  of  his  life  was  spent. 


142  TlIEODOKi:    HOOK.  [17S8-1841. 

Here  bo  engaged  a  comfortable  luit  unpretending  villa  on  tbu 

banks  of  the  river,  situated  between  the  bridge  [Putney  Bridge] 

„   ,      ,        and  the  pleasure-grounds  of  the  BisboT)  of  London.  .  .  . 

Barliam's        tt      ii  i      i 

Life  (if  His  library  was  tlie  beau  ideal  of  a  literary  workshop  ; 

fluii..'xUi.  ''  "f  moderate  dimensions,  but  light  and  cheerful,  hung 

round  with  choice  specimens  of  water-color  drawings, 

and  opening  into  a  small  garden . 

This  house  was  taken  down  in  1855.  It  stood  on  the  site 
of  the  abutment  of  the  Aqueduct  of  the  Chelsea  Water 
Works  Compan3\ 

Hook  died  at  Fulham  on  the  24th  of  August,  1841,  and  was 
buried  very  privately  in  tlie  churchyard  of  All  Saints  there, 
immediately  opposite  the  cliancel  window,  and  within  a  few 
steps  of  his  own  house.  A  simple  stone,  with  his  name  and 
age,  marks  the  spot ;  but  no  green  mound  was  above  him 
when  his  grave  was  visited  in  1885,  —  not  a  blade  of  grass  or 
a  flower  flourishing  among  the  pebbles  and  rough,  yellow, 
unsightly  flints  that  surround  his  headstone. 

Hook  was  a  clubable  man,  and  a  frequenter  of  Crockford's, 
on  the  west  side  of  St.  James's  Street,  on  the  site  of  which  the 
Devonshii-e  Club,  No.  50  St.  James's  Street,  was  afterwards 
erected,  and  of  the  Eccentrics,  which  met  in  his  day  in 
Chandos  Street,  Coveut  Garden  (see  Sheridan). 

He  was,  however,  more  closely  associated  with  the  Athe- 
naeum Club,  Waterloo  Place  and  Pall  Mall,  than  with  any 
other. 

At  the  Athena3um  Theodore  Hook  was  a  great  card  ;  and  in  a 

note  to  a  sketch  of  him  in  the  '  Quarterly  Review,'  it  is  stated  that 

the  number  of  dinners  at  this  club  fell  off  by  upwards 
Tinibs'sCu-       ,,,,11  ,. 

riosities  of  of  three  hundred  per  annum  after  Hook  disappeared 
cinbs!"  from  his  fiivorite  comer,  next  the  door  of  the  coffee-room. 
That  is  to  say,  there  must  have  been  some  dozen  of  gen- 
tlemen who  chose  to  dine  there  once  or  twice  every  week  of  the 
season,  merely  for  the  chance  of  Hook's  being  there,  and  permit- 
ting them  to  draw  their  chairs  to  his  little  table  in  the  course  of 


1711-177(5]  DAVID   HUME.  143 

the  evening.  The  corner  alluded  to  will,  we  suppose,  long  retain 
the  name  which  it  derived  from  him,  '  Temperance  Corner.' 
Many  grave  and  dignified  personages  being  frequent  guests,  it 
would  hardly  have  been  seemly  to  be  calling  for  repeated  supplies 
of  a  certain  description  ;  but  the  waiters  well  understood  what  the 
oracle  of  the  corner  meant  hy  '  Another  glass  of  toast  and  water,' 
or  'A  little  more  lemonade.' 

He  was  also  a  member  of  '  The  Honorable  Society  of 
Jackers,'  which  met  as  late  as  1812  at  the  Black  Jack  Tav- 
ern, No.  12  Portsmouth  Street,  near  Portugal  Street,  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields.  This  inn  —  called  also  the  '  Jump,'  from  an  ex- 
ploit of  Jack  Sheppard,  who  was  one  of  its  frequenters  —  was 
still  standing  in  1885,  althougli  doomed  to  destruction,  and 
was  one  of  the  oldest,  most  curious  and  interesting  inns  left 
in  the  metropolis.  It  had  escaped  the  restorers,  who  have 
done  so  much  to  wipe  out  all  that  they  have  attempted  to 
renew  ;  and  save  the  few  slight  repairs  that  had  been  neces- 
sary to  keep  it  from  tumbling  to  pieces,  it  was  left  as 
Joe  Miller  and  the  worthies  of  his  and  later  days  had  known 
it.  In  the  little  dark  back-parlor  were  the  very  benches  and 
tables  of  a  couple  of  centuries  ago,  carved  with  the  now  un- 
decipherable initials  of  a  thousand  names,  many  of  which, 
no  doubt,  were  not  born  to  die. 


DAVID   HUME. 

1711-1776. 

TTUME  spent  but  little  time  in  London.  In  1758  he 
"^  -*■  was  in  lodgings  in  Lisle  Street,  Leicester  Fields,  and 
again  in  176G,  when  Eousseau  was  his  guest,  and  before  their 
famous  quarrel  began.  It  was  here  that,  as  Rousseau 
asserted,  Hume  insulted  him  while  talking  in  his  sleep,  —  a 


144  LEIGH    HUNT.  [1784-1859. 

grave  charge,  doubted  by  Hume's  friends,  who  did  not  credit 
him  with  '  snoring  in  French.'  While  Hume  was  TTndei-- 
Secretary  of  State,  from  1767  to  17G1),  he  occupied  a  house 
in  Park  Place,  St.  James's  Street.  The  streets  of  London 
were  not  regularly  numbered  at  that  time,  and  the  position 
of  neither  of  these  houses  is  known.  He  was  a  member 
of  Brooks's,  which  was  in  his  day  at  No.  52  Pall  iMall.  The 
British  Institution,  now  no  longer  standing,  afterwards  occu- 
pied its  site. 


LEIGH   HUNT. 

1784-1859. 


T  EIGH  HUNT  was  bom  in  the  village  of  Southgate, 
-^^  eight  miles  north  of  London,  and  in  the  parish  of 
Edmonton,  where  lie  the  weary  bones  of  Charles  and  Mary 
Lamb  (see  Lamb).  He  was  educated  at  the  Blue  Coat 
School  (see  Coleridge,  pp.  5G-57),  and  in  his  Autobiogra- 
phy has  given  a  graphic  description  of  that  establishment 
in  his  day,  and  of  his  own  life  there. 

Christ-Hospital  (for  such  is  its  proper  name,  and  not  Christ's 

Hospital)    occupies   a  considerable  portion   of  ground   between 

^  .  ,  Newgrate   Street,  Giltspur   Street,  St.  Bartholomew's, 

Lei"!]  o  '  1  '  ' 

Hunt's  and  Little  Britain.     There  is  a  quadrangle  with  clois- 

ography,  ters  ;  and  the  Square  inside  the  cloisters  is  called  the 
chap.  III.  Garden,  and  most  likely  was  the  monastery  garden. 
Its  only  delicious  crop  for  many  years  has  been  pavement. 
Another  large  area,  presenting  the  Grammar  and  Navigation 
Scliools,  is  also  misnamed  the  Ditch  ;  the  town  ditch  having 
formerly  nm  that  way.  In  Newgate  Street  is  seen  the  hall,  or 
eating-room,  —  one  of  the  noblest  in  England,  adorned  with  enor- 
mously long  paintings  by  Verrio  and  others,  and  Avith  an  organ. 
A   portion    of  the   old   c^uadrangle    once   contained   the  library 


LEIGH    HUNT. 


1784-1859.]  LEIGH  HUNT.  145 

of  the  monks,  and  was  built  or  repaired  by  the  famous  Whitting- 
ton,  whose  arms  were  to  be  seen  outside  ;  but  alterations  of  late 
years  have  done  it  away.  Our  routine  of  life  was  this.  We 
rose  to  the  call  of  a  bell  at  six  in  summer,  and  seven  in  winter  ; 
and  after  combing  ourselves,  and  washing  our  hands  and  face, 
we  went  at  the  call  of  another  bell  to  breakfast.  All  this  took 
up  about  an  hour.  Froni  breakfast  we  proceeded  to  school,  where 
we  remained  till  eleven,  winter  and  summer,  and  then  had  an 
hour's  play.  Dinner  took  place  at  twelve.  Afterwards  was  a 
little  play  till  one,  when  we  went  again  to  school,  and  remained 
till  tive  in  summer  and  four  in  winter.  At  six  was  the  supper. 
We  used  to  play  after  it  in  summer  till  eight.  On  Sundays, 
the  school  time  of  other  days  was  occupied  in  church,  both  morn- 
ing and  evening  ;  and  as  the  Bible  was  read  to  us  every  day 
before  every  meal,  besides  prayers  and  grace,  we  rivalled  the 
monks  in  the  religious  part  of  our  duties. 

On  the  13th  of  June,  1813,  Byron  and  Moore  dined  with 
Hunt  in  Horsemonger  Lane  Gaol  during  his  two  years'  im- 
prisonment in  that  establishment  for  his  libel  upon  the 
Prince  Itegeut  in  the  '  Examiner.' 

Our  day  in  the  prison  Avas,  if  not  agreeable,  at  least  novel  and 
odd.  I  had,  for  Lord  Byron's  sake,  stipulated  with  our  host  before- 
hand, that  the  j)arty  should  be  as  much  as  possible 
confined  to  ourselves  ;  and  as  far  as  regarded  dinner  Life  of 
my  wislies  had  been  attended  to.  .  .  .  Soon  after  din-  ^™"'  ''  * 
ner,  however,  there  dropped  in  some  of  our  host's  literary  friends, 
who,  being  utter  strangers  to  Lord  Byron  and  myself,  rather  dis- 
turbed the  ease  in  which  we  were  all  sittinf'. 

Hunt  thus  describes  his  prison  surroundings  :  — 

I  papered  the  walls  with  a  trellis  of  roses  ;  I  had  the  ceiling 
colored    with  clouds   and  sky  ;    the   barred   -windows  Hunt's 
were  screened   with  Venetian  blinds;  and   when  my  a'lKrlwjirof 
bookcases  were  set  nx),  with  their  busts  and  flowers,  i»s  Cni.tem- 

^      _  '   poraries, 

and  a  pianoforte  made  its  appearance,  perhaps  there  vol.  ii. 
was  not  a  handsomer  room  on  that  side  of  the  water.     I  took  a 
pleasure,  when  a  stranger  knocked  at  the  door,  to  see  him  come  in 


146  LEIGH   HUNT.  [1781-1859. 

and  stare  about  him.  Tbu  surprise  on  issuing  froui  the  borough 
and  passing  thi-ough  the  avenue  of  a  jail  was  dramatic.  Charles 
Lamb  declared  there  was  no  other  such  room  except  in  a  I'airy  tale. 

Horsenionger  Lane  Gaol  stood  ou  the  south  side  of  Trinity 
Square,  Ncwiugtou  Causeway.  Its  chief  entrance  —  still 
standing  in  1885,  and  occupied  as  an  office  for  the  stamping 
of  weights  and  measures,  —  was  ou  Union  Eoad,  formerly 
Horsenionger  Lane.  A  public  playground  for  children  was 
opened  on  the  site  of  the  old  prison  in  the  spring  of  1885. 

When  I  first  visited  Leigh  Hunt  [1817J,  he  lived  at  No.  8 
York  Buildings,  in  the  New  Road.  His  house  was  small  and 
Procter's  scuutil J' furnished.  It  was  in  a  tiny  room,  built  out  at 
Recoilec-       the  back  of  the  drawing-room,  or  first  floor,  which  he 

tions  of  " 

Men  of  appropriated  as  a  study,  and  over  the  door  ol  this  was 

a  Hue  from  the  '  Faery  Queene.'  .  .  .  He  had  very  few 
books  :  an  edition  of  the  Italian  Poets  in  many  volumes,  Spenser's 
works,  and  the  minor  poems  of  Milton  being,  however,  amongst 
them.  I  don't  think  there  was  a  Shakspere.  There  were  always  a 
few  cut  flowers  in  a  glass  of  water  on  the  table. 

New  Road,  which  extended  from.  City  Road  to  Edgeware 
Road  in  Hunt's  time,  has  been  divided  by  the  Metropolitan 
Board  of  Works,  for  some  deeply  mysterious  reason,  into 
Pentonville  Road,  Eustoii  Road,  and  ]\Iarylebone  Road.  York 
Buildings,  which  no  longer  exists  as  such,  was  on  the  south 
side  of  the  present  Marylebone  Road,  between  York  Place 
and  Gloucester  Place,  and  not  far  from  Marylebone  Church. 

There  is,  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery  at  Kensington, 
a  letter  of  Hunt's,  dated  1830,  from  'Cromwell  Lane,  Old 
Brompton.'  This  was  that  part  of  the  street  since  called 
Harrington  Road,  which  lies  between  Queen's  Gate  and  Old 
Brompton  Road.  Hunt  was  living  at  No.  4  LTpper  Cheyne 
Row,  Chelsea,  in  1834,  when  Carlyle  became  his  neighbor; 
and  his  surroundings  at  that  time  are  thus  described  by  the 
Chelsea  Sage  :  — 


1784-1859.]  LEIGH   HUNT.  147 

Hunt's  household.  Nondescript !  Unutterable !  Mrs.  Hunt 
asleep  on  cushions  ;  four  or  live  beautiful,  strange,  gypsy-looking 
children  running  about  in  undress,  whom  the  lady  or- 
dered to  get  us  tea.  The  eldest  boy,  Percy,  —  a  sallow,  carlyle,^ 
black-haired  youth  of  sixteen,  with  a  kind  of  dark  ^]jl;p'xviii. 
cotton,  nightgown  on,  —  went  whirling  about  like  a 
laniiliar,  pervading  everything;  an  indescribable  dream-like  house- 
hold. .  .  .  Hunt's  house  excels  all  you  have  ever  read  of, — a 
poetical  Tinkerdom,  without  parallel  even  in  literatui-e.  In  his 
family  room,  where  are  a  sickly  large  wife  and  a  whole  school 
of  well-conditioned  wild  children,  you  will  find  half  a  dozen  old 
rickety  chairs  gathered  from  half  a  dozen  different  hucksters,  and 
all  seeming  engaged,  and  just  pausing,  in  a  violent  hornpipe.  On 
these  and  around  them  and  over  the  dusty  table  and  ragged  car- 
pet lie  all  kinds  of  litter,  —  books,  paper,  egg-shells,  scissors,  and, 
last  night  when  I  was  there,  the  torn  heart  of  a  half-quarter  loaf. 
His  own  room  above  stairs,  into  which  alone  I  strive  to  enter,  he 
keeps  cleaner.  It  has  only  two  chairs,  a  bookcase,  and  a  writing- 
table  ;  yet  the  noble  Hunt  receives  you  in  his  Tinkerdom  in 
the  spirit  of  a  king,  apologizes  for  nothing,  places  you  in  the  best 
seat,  takes  a  window-sill  himself  if  there  is  no  other,  and  then, 
folding  closer  his  loose  fl<nving  'muslin  cloud'  of  a  printed  night- 
gown, in  which  he  always  writes,  commences  the  liveliest  dia- 
logue on  philosophy  and  the  prospects  of  man  (who  is  to  be 
beyond  measure  happy  yet )  ;  which  again  he  will  courteously 
terminate  the  moment  you  are  bound  to  go  :  a  most  interesting, 
pitiable,  lovalile  man,  to  be  used  kindly  but  with. discretion. 

Upper  Cheyne  Row,  which  crosses  Great  Cheyne  Row,  not 
far  from  the  house  occupied  so  long  by  Carlyle,  has  been  re- 
numbered; but  Hunt's  quiet  old-fashioned  little  house,  which 
in  1885  was  No.  10,  was  pointed  out  by  old  residents  ol 
the  street,  who  remembered  Hunt's  occupancy  of  it  half  a 
century  before. 

Hunt's  homes  and  lodgings  in  London  and  its  neighbor- 
hood were  many  and  varied,  and  it  is  not  possible  to  follow 
him    to  then)    all.     He    lived    at    one  time  at  Paddington, 


148  LEIGH   HUNT.  [1784-1859. 

where  the  windows  of  his  study  looked  out  on  to  West- 
bourne  Grove ;  he  lodged  once  near  Coleridge,  at  Higligate ; 
and  when  he  wrote  '  Tlie  Old  Court  Suburb,'  he  occupied 
the  house  IS'o.  32  Edwardes  Square,  Kensington,  which 
in  1885  was  still  standing  as  he  left  it 

Leigh  Hunt  FiutUenuore,  I  want  you  to  come  up  here  [No.  32 
Bim'chu-a  Edwardes  Square]  and  give  me  a  look  in.  It  will  do 
JeiToid'sLife  your  kiudlv  eves  "ood  to  see  the  nice  .study  into  which 

of  Douglas        ''  ,  P     1,      1  ,-,•   ■  r^,     , 

Jenoiii,  I  have  escaped  out  oi  all  the  squalidities  at  Chelsea, 
c  lap.  IV.         ^^^  ^^  ^^j^  hours. 

I  did  not  know  Leigh  Hunt  in  his  prime,  but  I  knew  him  well 
when  he  lived  at  Edwardes  Sc^uare,  South  Ken.sington.  He  was 
then  yielding  to  the  universal  conqueror.  His  son  tells 
Retiospeiit'  ^^^  :  '  He  was  usually  seen  in  a  dressing-gown,  bending 
of  a  Long  j^j^  head  over  a  book  or  over  a  desk.'  Tall  and  upright 
still  ;  his  hair  white  and  straggling,  scattered  over  a 
brow  of  manly  intelligence  ;  his  eyes  retaining  much  of  their  old 
brilliancy  combined  with  gentleness;  his  convei'sation  still  spark- 
ling, though  by  fits  and  starts,  —  he  gave  me  the  idea  of  a  sturdy 
ruin  that,  in  donning  the  vest  of  time  had  been  recom[>ensed  for 
gradual  decay  of  strength  by  gaining  ever  more  and  more  of  the 
picturesque. 

Hunt  lived  early  in  this  centur}'^  in  the  Vale  of  Health,  a 
little  hamlet  on  Hampstead  Heath.  At  one  end  is  a  mon- 
ster caravansary  of  the  common  type,  with  merry-go-rounds 
and  tea-gardens,  called  the  Vale  of  Health  Hotel;  while  at 
the  other  end  is  a  smaller  public  house,  called  the  Vale  of 
Health  Tavern  ;  and  between  the  two  are  a  number  of  un- 
assuming buildings  of  the  '  villa '  order,  but  none  seemingly 
dating  back  to  Hunt's  time.  Old  inhabitants  of  the  neigh- 
borhood say  that  its  character  has  entirely  changed  dur- 
ing the  last  fifty  years.  Mr.  Thorne  believes  that  Hunt's 
house  was  on  the  site  of  the  Vale  of  Health  Hotel.  Dur- 
ing the  last  year  of  his  life  he  is  said  to  have  lived  at 
Hammersmith." 


1753-1821.]  MKS.    INCIIBALD.  149 

June  30,   1859.  —  Drove   to    Ilaiumersinitli,    where  we  found 

Leigh    Hunt    and    liis   two    daughters    awaiting    us.  j^-^^      f. 

It  was  a  very  tiny  cottage,  witli  white  curtains  and  James  T 

Fields : 
flowers  in  the  window  ;  but  his  beautiful  manner  made  Biogiaphical 

it  a  rich  abode.     The  dear  okl  man  talked  delightfully  ^'"'^'^''• 

about  his  flowers,  calling  them  'gentle  household  pets. 

Hunt's  name  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  '  Loudon  Directory  ' 
for  1859. 

Hunt  died,  two  months  later,  while  visiting  a  friend  in 
Chatheld  House,  —  a  modest  two-storied  brick  dwelling  on 
the  west  side  of  the  High  Street,  Putney,  and  numbered  84 
a  quarter  of  a  century  afterwards.  He  was  buried  in  Kensal 
Green, 


MRS.   INCH  BALD. 

1753-1821. 

"\ /TRS.  INCHBALD  in  1784  was  lodging  in  Leices- 
^^■^  ter  Court,  Leicester  Fields,  afterwards  Leicester 
Square,  in  very  humble  apartments,  where  she  began  the 
writing  of  the  plays  wliich  have  made  her  name  known 
to-day. 

In  1787  she  lived  in  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden,  in  the 
house  which  had  been  Button's  (see  Addisox,  p.  G).  Here 
she  occupied  herself  in  translating  plays  from  the  French, 
and  here  she  sold  for  two  hundred  pounds  her  '  Simple 
Story,'  written  in  Frith  Street,  Soho,  years  before. 

In  1810  Mrs.  Inchbald  lived  at  No.  5,  and  afterwards 
at  No.  11,  George's  Row,  overlooking  Hyde  Park,  and 
since  called  St.  George's  Place,  not  far  from  St.  George's 
Hospital. 


160  MRU.   INC'lir.ALl)  [ITiVi-lb-il 

111  1812  she  removed  to  No.  4  Earl's  Terrace,  a  quaint, 
old-fashioned  row  of  buildings  with  u  strip  of  green  before 
them,  ill  Kensington  Koad  opposite  HoUand  Park.  She 
lodged  also  in  JSloane  Street,  Knightsbridge,  and  in  Leonard 
Pkxce,  Kensington,  near  Earl's  Court  lload. 

At  all  times  Mrs.  Inchbald  seems  to  have  determmed  to  reUiiu 
liL'i-  ])rilL'rt  independence,  and  to  have  chosen  to  have  her  time 
and  property  at  her  own  disposal.  She  had  an  enthu- 
KhvoocVs  siastic  love  of  home,  although  that  home  was  often, 
L'i(ik-s  of  indeed  generally,  only  a  single,  or  at  most  a  couple  of 
Kn-iaiid,        rooms  up  two  or  three  pairs  of  stairs,  occasionally  in 

vol.  1.  :  Mrs.  /  ^  .  '  \      n 

Inchbald.  the  attic,  where  she  was  waited  on  by  the  servant  oi 
the  house,  or  sometimes  not  waited  on  at  all,  for  she 
not  unfrequently  speaks  of  fetching  her  own  water,  and  dressing 
her  own  dinner  ;  and  she  once  kept  a  coroneted  carriage  waiting 
■whilst  she  finished  scouring  her  apartment.  ...  At  one  time  she 
took  up  her  abode  in  a  hoarding-house  ;  but  she  could  not,  she 
said,  when  there,  command  her  a])petite  and  be  hungry  at  stated 
periods,  like  the  rest  of  the  hoarders  ;  so  she  generally  returned  to 
her  attic,  her  crust  of  bread,  and  liberty. 

Mrs.  Inchbald  died  at  Kensington  House,  which  stood  at 
the  enti-anee  of  Kensington  High  Street,  almost  opposite  the 
Palace  Gate.  In  Mrs.  Inchbald's  day  it  was  a  college  of 
the  Order  of  Jesuits.  It  was  afterwards  a  private  lunatic 
asylum,  but  was  taken  down  in  1872  to  make  way  for  the 
grand  mansion  of  Baron  Grant,  which  also  in  its  turn  has 
disappeared. 


o 


Here  [Kensington  House]  Mrs.  Inchbald   spent   the  last   two 
jp.^^^  years  of  her  life  ;  and  here  on  the  1st  of  August,  1821, 

Hunt's  she  died,  we  fear  —  how  shall  we  say  it  of  so  excellent 

Suburb,"  a  woman,  and  in  the  sixty-eighth  year  of  her  age?  — 
chap.  VI.  ^^  ^j^^i^j.  ifi(.ing_  u„t  she  had  been  very  handsome,  was 
still  handsome,  was  growing  fat,  and  had  never  liked  to  part  with 
her  beauty  ;  who  that  is  beautiful  does  ? 


ELIZABETH    INCHBALD. 


1794-1860.]  ANNA  JAMESON.  151 

Mrs.  Inchbald  was  buried  in  the  yard  of  St.  Mary's 
Church,  Kensington  (see  Colman,  p.  G2).  The  gravestones 
were  all  removed  on  the  destruction  of  the  old  church,  and 
no  tablet  to  her  memory  is  to  be  found  in  the  new.'-^" 


ANNA  JAMESON. 

1794-1860. 

"\  /TRS.  JAMESON  came  to  London  with  her  family  in 
-'■*-*■  180.3,  when  they  settled  at  Hanwell  on  the  Uxbridge 
Road.  In  1806  they  were  living  'in  the  busy  region  of 
Pall  Mall.' 

She  began  her  married  life  in  Chenies  Street,  which  runs 
from  Gower  Street  to  Tottenham  Court  Road. 

On  her  retui-n  to  London  after  a  continental  tour  in  182.5 
she  lived  for  many  years  in  the  house  of  her  sister,  No.  7 
Mortimer  Street,  Cavendish  Square.  The  street  has  been 
lengthened,  and  of  course  I'enumbered.  Mi's.  Jameson's 
home  was  in  the  present  Cavendish  Street,  a  few  doors 
from  the  Square. 

Mrs.  Jameson  was  visiting  friends  at  No.  51  Wimpole 
Street  in  1844,  when  she  first  met  Mrs.  Browning,  then 
Miss  Barrett,  who  lived  next  door. 

From  1851  to  1854  she  lived  in  Bruton  Street,  Berkeley 
Squai'e. 

Here  she  was  able  to  collect  her  friends  aljout  her,  and  saw  a 
good  deal  of  what  may  fairly  be  termed  brilliant  so- 
ciety at  the  simple  evening-parties  which  she  held  on  Amia'.Jame- 

Wednesday  evenings,  much  after  the  fashion  of  the  Ro-  J'?"  •  Later 

.  .  .  Life, 

man  reunions,  in  which  the  circle  of  her  literary  friends 

was  diversified  by  a  little  admixture  from  tlie  great  world,  and  by 
15 


152  DULCiLAS  JLUiKULD.  [1803-1857. 

the  occasional  appearance  of  strangers  of  note,  Americans  and 
foreigners. 

Mrs.  Jameson,  spending  niucli  time  among  the  art  treas- 
ures in  the  Pi'int  Koom  of  the  British  Museum,  was  in  lodg- 
ings in  Conduit  Street,  Regent  Street,  in  the  spring  of  1860; 
and  here  in  March  of  that  year  she  died. 

She  was  buried  by  the  side  of  her  father  and  mother  iu 
Kensal  Green. 


DOUGLAS   JERROLD. 

1803-1857. 

■pvOUGLAS  JERROLD  was  born  in  Greek  Street,  Soho, 
^-^  January  3,  1803,  during  a  visit  of  his  mother  to 
London  ;  but  his  infancy  and  his  youth  were  spent  in  tlie 
neighborhood  of  the  various  provincial  theatres  of  which 
his  father  was  manager. 

After  two  years  of  life  as  a  ship's  boy,  where  he  gathered, 
by  hard  experience,  the  knowledge  afterwards  displayed  in 
his  famous  nautical  drama,  he  settled  in  London  in  1816, 
'in  humble  enough  lodgings  in  Broad  Court,'  a  quaint  little 
thoroughfiire  full  of  dingy  old  liouses,  running  from  Bow 
Street  to  Drury  Lane.  While  living  here  he  was  appren- 
ticed to  a  printer  in  Northumberland  Sti'cet,  Strand. 

The   young  printer  brought   home  joyfully  enough    his  first 

earnings.     Very  dreary  was  his  home,  with  liis  poor 

las  Jcnoia"    weak  father  sitting  in  the  chimney-corner:  but  there 

chap.*i'a"'     ■^^'^^  ^  fi^^  i'^  *^^  ^''y  ^^^  would  light  up  that  liome ; 

at  any  rate,  they  were  very  cheerful  for  one  day. 

In  1819  he  was  in  the  establishment  of  a  printer  in 
Lombard  Street,  his  first  employer  having  failed. 

No  record  of  Jerrold's  home  life  in  London  for  a  number 
of  years  is  preserved  to  us.     In  1829  his  address  was  No.  4 


MRS.  JAMESON 


1803-1857.]  DOUGLAS  JERROLD.  153 

Augustus  Square,  Regent's  Park, — a  small  two-storied, 
countrified  cottage  at  the  junction  of  Park  Village  and 
Augustus  Street;  left  unaltered  in  1885.  In  1834  he  was 
living  in  Thistle  (irove,  Fulham  lload,  Chelsea,  since  ex- 
tended and  renumbered  ;  in  1835,  in  Michael's  Grove,  Bromp- 
ton  Road.  In  1838  his  address  was  Haverstock  Hill.  In 
1844  he  had  a  cottage  in  Park  Village,  East  Regent's  Park, 
near  Augustus  Square,  which  forty  years  later  was  as  quiet 
and  rural  as  a  village  street ;  and  in  1845  he  went  to  West 
Lodge,  Lower  Puti>ey  Common,  where  he  remained  eight  or 
nine  years. 

This  study  [West  Lodge]  is  a  very  snug  room.     All  about  it 
are   books.     Crowning   the    shelves  are  Milton   and  Shakspere. 
A  bit  of  Shakspere's  mulberry  tree  lies  on  the  mantel- 
piece.     Above   the  sofa    are    the   'Rent    Day'    and  las Jeiroid^' 
'Distraining  for  Rent,'  Wilkie's  two  pictures.     Under  ^i^;.^^^\^?°' 
the  two  prints  laughs  Sir  Joshua's  sly  '  Puck,'  perched 
upon  a  pulpy  mushroom.  .  .  .  The  furniture  is  simple  solid  oak. 
The  desk  has  not  a  speck  upon  it.     The  marble  shell  upon  which 
the  inkstand  rests  has  no  litter  in  it.     Various  notes  lie  in  a  row 
between  clips,  on  the  table.     The   paper-basket  stands  near  the 
arm-chair,  prepared  for  answered   letters  and  rejected  contribu- 
tions.    The  little  dog  follows  his  master  into  his  study,  and  lies 
at  his  feet. 

That  cottage  at  Putney,  its  garden,  its  mulberry  tree,  its  grass- 
plot,  its  cheery  library  with  Douglas  Jerrold  as  the  chief  figure 
in  the  scene,  remains  as  a  bright  and  most   pleasant  Recollec- 
picture  in  our  memory.     He  had  an  almost  reverential  Writers  by 
fondness   for  books,   books   themselves,   and   said  he  Charles  and 

'  Mary  Cow- 

could  not  bear  to  treat  them,  or  to  see  them  treated,  den  Clarke : 
with  disrespect.  He  told  us  it  gave  him  pain  to  see 
them  turned  on  their  faces,  stretched  open,  or  dog's-eared,  or 
carelessly  flung  down,  or  in  any  way  misused.  He  told  us  this, 
holding  a  volume  in  his  hand  with  a  caressing  gesture,  as  though 
he  tendered  it  afiectionately  and  gratefully  for  the  pleasure  it 
had  given  him. 


154  DOUGLAS   JKKKOLD.  [1803-1857. 

West  Lodge,  still  standing  in  1885,  was  one  of  two  semi- 
attached  houses  (the  other  called  Elm  House)  on  the  borders 
of  Lower  Putney  Common,  between  the  Lower  Richmond 
Road  and  the  River,  and  about  a  mile  beyond  Putney 
Brid'»-c.  It  was  a  spacious  irregular  brick  house,  with  red- 
tiled  gabled  roofs,  surrounded  by  fine  old  trees,  and  with  a 
wide  stretch  of  common  in  front.  It  had  more  the  appear- 
ance of  a  farm-house  than  a  gentleman's  villa.  At  West 
Lodge  Mrs.  Caudle  was  created. 

In  1853  Jerrold  was  living  in  Circus  Road,  St.  John's 
Wood,  a  street  that  has  been  renmnbered  witliin  a  few  years. 

Early  in  1857  he  removed  to  Kilburn  Priory,  8t.  John's 
Wood,  a  short  street  running  northerly  from  Maida  Vale 
to  Upton  Road ;  and  here  on  the  8th  of  June  of  the  same 
year  he  died.  Ho  was  buried  at  Norwood,  and  on  his 
tombstone  are  inscribed  the  lines  by  his  son :  '  Sacred  to 
the  memory  of  Douglas  William  Jerrold,  born  1803,  died 
1857.  An  English  writer  whose  works  will  keep  his  memory 
green  better  than  any  epitaph.' 

Jerrold's  clubs  were  very  many.  Tliackeray  worked  hard, 
and  successfully,  to  insure  his  election  to  the  Reform,  No. 
104  Pall  Mall;  but  he  was  more  frequently  to  be  found  in 
humbler  and  more  entertaining  organizations. 

Of  the  clubs  he  set  afloat  and  gave  names  to  Avithin  my  own 
recollection,  I  particularly  call  to  mind  those  which  he  christened, 

respectively,  '  Hook  and  Eye  '  and  '  Our  Club  ; '  the  for- 
Meiiioriais  mer  holding  its  weekly  meetings  at  the  Albion  in  Rus- 
^;[,;^">;T''"'^''  sell  street,  Covent  Garden,  and  the  latter  at  Clunn's, 

in  tlie  Piazza,  Covent  Garden.  .  .  .  Many  years  before 
this  period  Jerrold  was  an  active  member  of  a  club  called  '  The 
Mulberries,'  which  was  held  in  the  Wrekin  Tavern,  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Covent  Garden,  and  in  which  a  regulation  was  estab- 
lished that '  some  paper  or  poem  or  conceit  bearing  upon  Shakspere 
should  be  contributed  by  each  member,  the  general  title  being 
"  Mulberry  Leaves."  ' 


1709-178J.]  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  155 

The  Albion  Tavern,  No.  26  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden, 
was  still  in  1885  much  frequented  by  theatrical  people  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night.  Clunn's  (afterwards  Richard- 
son's) Hotel,  No.  1,  on  the  Piazza,  Covent  Garden,  is  no 
longer  in  existence.  The  site  of  the  Wrekin  Tavern  was 
No.  22  Broad  Court,  Bow  Street,  on  the  corner  of  Cross 
Court.     It  was  taken  down  about  1870  (see  Godwin,  p.  118). 

Jerrold  was  a  member  also  of '  the  Museum,  a  properly 
modest  and  literary  club,'  established  in  1847,  'at  the  end 
of  Northumberland  Street,'  Strand,  of  the  Gratis  and  the 
Rational  clubs  ;  and  he  was  first  president  of  the  Whittington 
Club,  which  met  at  the  Crown  and  Anchor  Tavern,  Arundel 
Street,  Strand  (see  Johnson  and  Rogers).  On  its  site  the 
Whittington  Club  house.  No.  37  Arundel  Street,  now  closed, 
was  afterwards  built. 


SAMUEL  JOHNSOK 

1709-1784. 

npHE  stoiy  of  Dr.  Johnson's  life,  as  he  himself  and  as  his 
-*-  friends  have  told  it,  has  been  so  carefully  and  so 
minutely  recorded  that  no  attempt  will  be  made  here  to  tell 
it  in  any  other  way.  His  earliest  experiences  of  London 
were  in  his  extreme  youth. 

He  says,  in  '  An  Account  of  the  Life  of  Dr.  Samuel  John- 
son, from  his  Birth  to  his  Eleventh  Year,  Written  by  Him- 
self : '  — 

This  year  [1712]  in  Lent  I  was  taken  to  London  to  be  touched 
for  the  Evil  by  Queen  Anne.  My  mother  was  at  Nicholson's, 
the  famous  bookseller  of  Little  Britain.  I  always  retained  some 
memory  of  this  journey,  although  I  was  but  thirty  months  old. 


156  SAMUEL  JOUNSON.  [1709-1784. 

Boswell  adds  :  — 

Mrs.  Piozzi  has  preserved  his  very  picturesque  description  of 

the  scene  as  it  remained  upon  his  fancy.     Being  asked 

LifiH>fJohn-  ^^  ^^  couhl  remember  Queen  Anne,  '  lie  had/  he  said, 

sdii,  1712,       '  a   confused  but  somehow  a  sort  of  solemn  recoUec- 

tion  of  a  lady  in  diamonds  and  a  long  black   hood.' 

This  touch,  however,  was  without  any  effect. 

Johnson's  next  interview  with  royalty,  when  he  met  George 
III.  in  the  library  of  Buckingham  House  in  1767,  Boswell 
considers  one  of  the  most  remarkable  incidents  of  his  life. 

During  the   whole   of  this  interview   Johnson   talked  to    his 

Bosweii's       Majesty  with   profound  respect,  but  still   in  his  firm 

joiinson,  ^     manly  manner,  with  a  sonorous  voice,  and  never  in 

that  subdued  tone  which  is  commonly  used  at  the  levee 

and  in  the  drawing-room. 

Buckingham  House  was  taken  down  in  1825,  by  order  of 
George  IV.,  and  Buckingham  Palace  erected  upon  its  site. 

Johnson  was  a  man  of  eiglit-and-twenty  when  he  decided 
to  try  his  fortunes  in  London;  and  he  and  Garrick  arrived 
here  together  in  March,   1737. 

He  had  a  little  money  when  he  came  to  town,  and  he  knew 
how  he  could  live  in  the  cheapest  manner.  His  first  lodgings 
were  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Norris,  a  stay-maker,  in  Exeter 
John7onr  Street,  adjoining  Catherine  Street,  in  the  Strand.  'I 
1737,  m.  28.  ,|jj-,gj^j  pjjj^i  i,(,^  i  y^.j.y  ^vell  for  eightpence,  with  very 
good  company  at  the  Pine  Apple  in  New  Street,  just  by  :  sev- 
eral of  them  had  travelled  ;  they  expected  to  meet  every  day,  but 
did  not  know  one  another's  names.  It  used  to  cost  the  rest  a 
shilling,  for  they  drank  wine  ;  but  I  had  a  cut  of  meat  for  six- 
pence, and  bread  for  a  penny,  and  gave  the  waiter  a  penny  ;  so 
that  I  was  quite  well  served,  nay,  better  than  the  rest,  for  they 
gave  the  waiter  nothing.' 

jS'ew  Street  runs  from  St.  Martin's  Lane  to  the  junction 
of  King  and  Bedford  Streets,  but  no  Pine  Apple  exists  there 
nov/. 


1709-1784.]  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  157 

About  this  period  Johnson  began  his  labors  in  the  estab- 
lishment of  Edward  Cave,  editor  of  the  '  Gentleman's  Maga- 
zine,' at  St.  John's  Gate,  Clerkenwell,  where  he  was  engaged 
in  1737,  and  where  he  first  met  Savage. 

St.  John's  Gate,  Clerkenwell,  one  of  the  oldest  and  most 
interesting  structures  in  London,  had,  as  late  as  188.5,  by- 
rare  good  fortune,  been  spared  by  the  demons  of  improve- 
ment. The  Jerusalem  Tavern  still  stood  at  the  east  side, 
and  in  its  coffee-room  was  shown,"  among  other  interesting 
relics,  what  purports  to  be  Johnson's  armchair,  A  bench 
without  a  back  or  a  three-legged  stool  was  probably  con- 
sidered good  enough  for  him  when  he  worked  for  Cave.  The 
editorial  and  printing  rooms  of  the  'Gentleman's  Magazine' 
were,  it  is  said,  over  the  street,  in  a  room  occupied  in  1885 
and  for  some  years  previously  by  the  St.  John's  Ambulance 
Association.  Here  Johnson  toiled,  and  here,  as  is  recorded 
on  the  walls  in  large  letters,  '  Garrick  made  his  essay  as  an 
actor  in  London,  1737,  in  the  farce  of  the  "  Mock  Doctor."  ' " 

In  this  same  year  Johnson  was  lodging  at  Greenwich  ;  for 
Boswell  quotes  a  letter  from  him  to  Cave,  dated  'July  12, 
1737,  Greenwich,  next  door  to  the  Golden  Heart  [no  longer 
standing],  Church  Street.'  Shortly  afterwards  he  had  lodg- 
ings in  Woodstock  Street,  Oxford  Street,  and  in  Castle  Sti-eet, 
near  Cavendish  Square,  in  houses  which,  if  they  remain,  it 
is  not  possible  to  identify  now.  In  Castle  Street  he  wrote 
'  London.' 

No  detailed  account  of  his  places  of  residence  for  the  next 
ten  years  is  given  by  Boswell ;  but  in  1748  he  speaks  of  his 
temporary  home  at  Hampstead. 

For  the   gratification  of  posterity  let  it  be  recorded  that   the 
house  so  dignified  [by  the  occiq^aney  of  Johnson]  was  p.^^^,^ 
the  last  in  Frogual,  Southward,  now  [1818]  ocoq^ied  Hampstead, 

p.  334, 

by  Benjamin  Charles  Stephenson,  Esq. 
Xo  trace  of  this  house  now  remains. 


158  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  [1709-1784. 

Johnson  lived,  from  1748  to  1 758,  at  Xo.  17  Gough  Square, 
Fleet  Street.  Here  he  begun  tlie  publication  of  the  '  llani- 
bler,'  in  1  750  ;  here  his  wife  died,  in  1752  ;  and  here  he  com- 
pleted the  Dictionary,  published  in  1755.  It  was  in  this 
house,  no  doubt,  that  he  delivered  himself  of  the  famous 
detinition  of  'network'  ('anything  reticulated  or  decus- 
sated, at  equal  distances,  with  interstices  between  the  inter- 
sections '),  which  has  ever  since  made  the  meaning  and  use 
of  the  word  so  clear  to  the  average  mind.  This  house,  still 
standing  in  1885,  has  been  marked  by  a  tablet  of  the  Society 
of  Arts. 

In  Bolt  Court  he  had  a  garden,  and  perhaps  in  Johnson's  Court 

and  Gough  S(iuare,  which  we  mention  to  show  how 
Leigli  i  -1         T  111  1 

Hunt's  tranquil  and  removed  these  places  were,  and  convenient 

chap- m-"'     ^"^  a  student  who  wished,    nevertheless,   to   have  tlie 

bustle  of  London  at  hand  ;    and  Maitland  describes 

Johnson's  and  Bolt  Courts  in  1739  as  haying  '  good  houses,  well 

inhabited  ; '  and  Gough  Square  he  calls  fashionable. 

Soon  after  this  [in  1758],  I\Ir.  Burney,  during  a  visit  to  the 

Capital,  had  an  interview  with  him  in  Gough  Square,  where  he 

dined  and  drank  tea  with  him,  and  was  introduced  to 
Boswell's  ' 

Johnson,        the  ac{iuaintance  of  Mrs.  Williams.     After  dinner  Mr. 

1758,  .Et.  49.    T   ,         ^  1    *      nr       r.  +  •*!     l  • 

Johnson  proposed  to  Mr.  Lurney  to  go  up  with  nun 

into  his  garret,  which,  being  accepted,  he  there  found  about  five 

or  six  Greek  folios,  a  deal  writing-desk,  and  a  chair  and  a  half. 

Johnson  gave  to  his  guest  the  entire  seat,  anel  tottered  himself  on 

one  with  only  three  legs  and  one  arm. 

I  went  one  day  searching  for  Johnson's  place  of  abode.     Found 

with  difficulty  the  house  in  Gough  Scpiare,  where  the 

Note  Book,     Dictionary  was  composed.      The  landlord,  whom  Glen 

rvmule's        ^^^'^  ^  incidentally  inquired  of,  was  just  scraping  his 

Cariyle,  vol.    feet  at  the  door,  invited  us  to  walk  in,  showed  us  the 
ii.  chap.  X.  r.       i  •  i      i  i  i  i 

garret   room,  etc.    (of  which   he   seemed  to  have  the 

obscurest  tradition,  taking  Johnson  for  a  schoolmaster). 

On  the  23d  of  March,  1759,  Johnson  wrote  to  Mrs.  Lucy 
Porter :  — 


1 709-1 7S4.]  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  159 

I   have   this   day   moved  my    things,   and  you   are  Boswell's 
now  to  direct  to  me  at  Staple  Inn  rilolbornl,  London.  fPJ!,"*?"-  ,„ 

}  '-  _  ■■  1769,  itt.  50. 

I  am  going  to  publish  a  little  story-book  ['  Rasselas '], 
which  I  will  send  you  when  it  is  out. 

He  retired  to  Gray's  Inn,  and  soon  removed  to  chambers  in 
the  Inner  Temple  Lane  [No.  Ij,  where  he  lived  in  poverty,  total 
idleness,  and  the  pride  of  literature.     Mr.  Fitzherbert  Arthur 
.  .  .  used   to   say   that  he  paid   a    morning   visit    to  Murphy's 

•J  >■  o  Essay  on  the 

Johnson,  intending  from  his  chamber  to  send  a  letter  Life  and 

,         ^.  1      .     ,       1  •  ^  ■        1       r  1  Genius  of 

to   the   City  ;  but  to  his   great   surprise  he  lound  an  sanmei 
author  by  profession  without  pen,  ink,  or  paper.     The  Jo''"son. 
present  Bishop  of  Salisbury  was  also  among  those  who  endeav- 
ored, by  constant  attention,  to  soothe  the  cares  of  a  mind  which 
he  knew  to  be  afflicted  with  gloomy  apprehensions. 

Johnson's  house  in  Inner  Temple  Lane  has  since  been 
removed,  giving  place  to  the  more  imposing  but  less  inter- 
esting Johnson's  Buildings,  which  stand  upon  its  site. 

Dr.  Johnson's  library   was   contained  in  two  garrets  over  his 
chambers  [Inner  Temple  Lane],  where  Lintot,  son  of  the  cele- 
brated bookseller  of  that  name,  had  formerly  his  ware-  gf,,^^,p]i.^ 
house.     I  found  a  number  of  good   books,  but   very  Johnson 

^  1703,  JEt.  54. 

dusty  and  in  great  confusion.  The  floor  was  strewed 
with  manuscript  leaves  in  Johnson's  own  handwriting,  which  I 
beheld  with  a  degree  of  veneration,  supposing  they  might 
perhaps  contain  portions  of  the  '  Rambler  '  or  of  '  Rasselas.' 
I  observed  an  apparatus  for  chemical  experiments,  of  which 
Johnson  was  all  his  life  very  fond.  The  place  seemed  to  be 
very  favorable  for  retirement  and  meditation. 

Beauclerc  gives  the  following  account  of  a  visit  he  made 
to  Johnson  in  Inner  Temple  Lane  with  Madame  de  Bouf- 
flers,  —  a  French  lady  of  doubtful  morality,  who  aspired  to 
be  considered  a  blue-stocking. 

AVhen  j\Iadaine  de  Boufflers  was  first  in  England  [1763],  she 
was  desirous  to  see  Johnson.     I  accordingly  went  with  3^g,,.gji,j. 
her  to  his  chambers  in  the    Temple,  where  she   was  ^0]'"^™.  ^^ 

•  -iTTu         1T65,  Mt.  56. 

entertained  with  his  conversation  lor  some  time.    VVrien 


160  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  [1709-1784. 

our  visit  was  over,  she  and  I  left  him,  and  were  got  into  Inner 
Temple  Lane,  when  all  at  once  I  heard  a  noise  like  thunder. 
This  was  occiisioned  by  Johnson,  who,  it  seems,  on  a  little  recol- 
lection had  taken  it  into  his  head  that  he  ou^ht  to  have  done 
the  honors  of  his  literary  residence  to  a  foreign  lady  of  quality, 
and,  eager  to  show  himself  a  man  of  gallantry,  was  hurrying  down 
the  stairs  in  violent  agitation.  He  overtook  us  before  we  reached 
the  Temple  Gate,  and,  brushing  in  between  me  and  Madame  de 
Boufflers,  seized  her  hand  and  conducted  her  to  the  coach. 

Ozias  Humphrey,  R.  A.,  an  eminent  painter,  in  a  letter 
to  his  brother  dated  September  19,  17G4,  and  quoted  by 
Croker  in  his  '  Johnsoniana,' gives  the  following  picture  of 
Johnson's  life  in  Inner  Temple  Lane  :  — 

The  day  after  I  wrote  my  last  letter  to  you,  I  was  introduced 
to  Mr.  Johnson  by  a  friend.  We  passed  through  three  very  dirty 
rooms  to  a  little  one  that  looked  like  an  old  counting-house, 
where  this  great  man  was  sat  at  breakfast.  The  furniture  of  this 
room  was  a  very  large  deal  writing-desk,  an  old  walnut-tree 
table,  and  five  ragged  chairs  of  four  different  sets.  I  was  very 
much  struck  with  Mr.  Johnson's  appearance,  and  could  hardly 
help  thinking  him  a  madman  for  some  time,  as  he  sat  waving 
over  his  breakfast  like  a  lunatic.  He  is  a  very  large  man,  and 
was  dressed  in  a  dirty  brown  coat  and  waistcoat,  with  breeches 
that  were  brown  also  (although  they  had  been  crimson),  and  an 
old  black  wig ;  his  shirt  collar  and  sleeves  were  unbuttoned  ;  his 
stockings  were  down  about  his  feet,  which  had  on  them,  by  way 
of  slippers,  an  old  pair  of  shoes.  He  had  not  been  up  long  when 
we  called  on  him,  which  was  near  one  o'clock.  He  seldom  goes 
to  bed  before  two  in  the  morning  ;  and  Mr.  Reynolds  [Sir  Joshua]  ' 
tells  me  he  generally  drinks  tea  about  an  hour  after  he  has  supped. 
We  had  been  some  time  with  him  before  he  began  to  talk,  l)ut 
at  length  he  began,  and,  faith,  to  some  purpose  :  everything  he 
says  is  as  correct  as  a  second  edition  ;  'tis  almost  impossible  to 
argue  with  him,  he  is  so  sententious  and  so  knowing. 

Boswell  had  his  first  interview  with  Johnson  in  the  house 
of   Mr.    Thomas   Davies   the   actor,  No.  8  Russell  Street, 


1709-1784.]  SAMUEL   JOHNSON.  161 

Covent    Garden;  and   he   thus   describes   the    momentous 
event :  — 

At  last,  on  Monday  the  16th  of  May  [1763],  when  I  was  sitting 
in  Mr.  Davies's  back-parlor,  after  having  drunk  tea  with  him  and 
Mrs.  Davies,  Johnson  unexpectedly  came  into  the  shop, 

BoswGil  s 

and,  Mr    Davies  having  ijerceived    him  through    the  Johnson, 

,     '  .       ,  •  u  •   1  •*.♦  1      1763,  JEt.  bi. 

glass  door  m  the  room  in  which  we  were  sittnig  ad- 
vancing towards  us,  he  announced  his  awful  approach  to  me 
somewhat  in  tiie  manner  of  an  actor  in  the  part  of  Horatio, 
when  he  addresses  Hamlet  on  the  appearance  of  his  father's 
ghost,  '  Look,  my  lord,  it  comes !  '  I  found  that  1  had  a  very 
perfect  idea  of  Johnson's  figure,  from  a  portrait  of  him  painted  by 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  soon  after  he  had  published  his  Dictionary, 
in  the  attitude  of  sitting  in  his  easy-chair  in  deep  meditation. 

Tom  Davies's  house  still  stood  in  1885,  but  the  ground 
floor  had  been  turned  into  a  green-grocer's  shop. 

One  week  later.  May  24,  Boswell  for  the  first  time  called 
on  Johnson,  and  '  found  the  Giant  in  his  den.' 

His  chambers  were  on  the  first  floor  of  No.  1  Inner  Temple 
Lane.  ...  He  received   me   very   courteously  ;  but   it   must  be 
confessed  that  his  apartment  and  furniture  and  morn-  ^^^^^^,1,^ 
inp  dress  were  sufficiently  uncouth.     His  brown  suit  Johnson, 
of  clothes  looked  very  rusty  ;   he  had  on  a  little  old    '  ' ' 
shrivelled  unpowdered  wig,  which  was  too  small  for  liis  head  ; 
his   .shirt   neck  and  knees  of  his  lireeches  were  loose,  his  black 
worsted  stockings  ill  drawn  up  ;  and  he  had  a  pair  of  unbuckled 
shoes  by   way   of  slippers.      But   all    these    slovenly   peculiari- 
ties   were    forgotten  the  moment   he    began   to   talk.  .  .  .  He 
told    me   that    he   generally  went  abroad  at  four  in   the   after- 
noon, and  seldom  came  home  till  two  in  the  morning.     I  took 
the  liberty  to  ask  if  he  did  not  think  it  wrong  to  live  thus,  and 
not  make  more  use  of  his  great  talents.     He  owned  it  was  a  bad 
habit. 

Concerning  his  personal  appearance  and  carelessness  of 
dress  the  following  story  may  be  told  here  :  — 


1G2  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  [1709-1784. 

In  general  liis  wigs  were  very  shabby,  and  their  foreparts  were 

burned   away   by   the  near  approach   of  the  candle,   which   his 

Boswell's        short-sightedness  reiidfred  necessary  in  ixnidiiig.     At 

.lohnsoii,         Streatham  Mr.  Thrale's  butler  had  always  a  better  wi^ 

177S,  yEt.  C9 :  ,  i         t  i  i    ,.  ,      '  •,         . 

Note  by         ready,  and  as  Johnson  passed  ironi  the  drawuig-room 

'°'"-  when  dinner  was  announced,  the  servant  would  re- 

move the  ordinary  wig  and  replace  it  with  the  newer  one  ;  and 
this  ludicrous  ceremony  was  peribrnied  every  day. 

From  1765  to  177G  Johnson  lived  at  No.  7  Johnson's 
Court,  Fleet  Street,  in  a  house  still  standing  in  1885,  but 
miserable  in  its  neglected  old  age.  Here  he  wrote  the 
Prologue  to  Goldsmith's  '  Good  Matured  ]\Ian,'  and  pub- 
lished his  '  Journey  to  the  Hebrides,'  his  edition  of  Shak- 
spere,  and  a  new  edition  of  the  Dictionary.  Johnson's  Court 
was  not  so  called,  as  has  been  generally  supposed,  because 
of  his  residence  in  it.  The  name  was  a  mere  coincidence  ; 
but  it  gave  him  the  opportunity  of  referring  to  himself, 
while  in  Scotland  with   Boswell,  as  '  Johnson  of  that  Ilk.' 

I  returned  to  London  in  February  [1766],  and  found  Dr.  John- 

„       ,„         son  in  a  good  house  in  Johnson's    Court,   Fleet   Street 
Boswell's  7  .  ' 

Johnson,        (No.  7),  in  which  he  had  accommodated  Miss  Williams 
with  an  apartment  on   the  ground   floor,    while   Mr. 
Levett  occupied  his  post  in  the  garret. 

To  my  great  surprise,  he  asked  me  to  dine  with  him  on  Easter 
Day  [1773].  I  never  supposed  that  he  had  a  dinner  at  his  house, 
Boswell's  for  I  never  heard  of  his  friends  having  been  enter- 
^"-"®'^/„.     tained  at  his  table.     He  told  me,  'I  generally  have  a 

1773,  ^t.G4.  '^  "l 

meat  pie  on  Sunday  ;  it  is  baked  at  a  public  oven, 
whicli  is  very  properly  allowed,  because  one  man  can  attend  to 
it  ;  and  thus  the  advantage  is  obtained  of  not  keeping  servants, 
from  church  to  dress  dinner.'  ...  I  had  gratified  my  curiosity 
much  in  dining  with  Jean  Jacques  Eousseau  while  he  lived  in 
tlie  wilds  of  Neufchatel.  I  had  as  great  a  curiosity  to  dine  Avith 
Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  in  the  dusty  recess  of  a  court  in  Fleet 
Street.  I  supposed  we  should  scarcely  have  knives  and  forks,  and 
only  some  strange,  uncouth,  ill-drest  dish  ;   Init  I  found  every- 


,/^^-\^ 


SAMUKI.    JUHNSON. 


A  .^^*^ 


•,viV 


^^f. 


1709-17S4.]  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  163 

thin"  in  very  good  order.  We  Lad  no  other  company  but  Mrs. 
Williams  and  a  young  woman  whom  I  did  not  know.  As  a 
dinner  here  was  considered  as  a  singular  phenomenon,  and  as  I 
was  frequently  interrogated  on  the  subject,  my  readers  may 
perhaps  be  desirous  to  know  our  bill  of  fare.  Foote,  I  remember, 
in  allusion  to  Francis  the  negro,  was  willing  to  suppose  that  our 
repast  was  black  broth.  But  the  fact  was  that  we  had  a  very  good 
soup,  a  boiled  leg  of  lamb  and  spinach,  a  veal  pie,  and  a  rice 
pudding. 

While  living  in  Johnson's  Court  he  first  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  Thrales  (in  17 Go).  He  dined  with  them 
every  Thursday  during  the  winter,  at  Streatham,  and  gained 
iu  many  ways  by  the  association.  Their  house,  Streatham 
Place,  stood  in  Streatham  Park,  on  the  south  side  of  the 
Lower  Common  at  Streatliain,  Surre}',  six  miles  from  West- 
minster Bridge.  It  was  taken  down  in  18G3,  and  no  trace 
of  it  remains. 

Thrale's  Brewery,  afterwards  Barclay  and  Perkins's,  to 
which  firm  Johnson,  as  executor,  sold  the  buildings  and  the 
business,  stands  in  Park  Street,  west  of  the  Borough  High 
Street,  Southwark,  covering  a  large  plot  of  ground  (see 
Shakspere). 

We  have  often  had  occasion  to  sigh  over  the  poverty  of  London 
in  the  article  of  genuine  popular  lesirends.     One  beer- 

,  •  rr.,  ,  T,  Knight's 

house  18  among  the  exceptions,     ihe  workmen  at  Bar-  London, 
clay  and  Perkins's  will  show  you  [1842]  a  little  apart-  Beer?  ' 
ment  in  which,  according  to  the  tradition  of  the  place, 
Johnson  wrote  his  Dictionary.      Now,  this  story  has  one  feature 
of  a  genuine  legend  :  it  sets  chronology  at  defiance. 

In  177G  Johnson  took  possession  of  the  house  No.  8  Bolt 
Court,  Fleet  Street,  where  the  rest  of  his  life  was  spent. 

Having   arrived  in   London   late   on    Friday,  the  15th  March 
[1776],  I  hastened  next  morning  to  wait  on  Dr.  John-  Rng^^gii's 
son  at  his  house,  but  found  he   was  removed   from  •Tnimson, 
Johnson's  Court  to  Bolt  Court,  No.  8,  still  keeping  to        '     . " 
10 


164  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  [1709-1784. 

his  favorite  Fleet  Street,  My  reflection  at  tlR-  time  upon  this 
change,  as  marked  in  my  journal,  is  as  follows:  'I  felt  a  foolish 
regret  that  he  had  left  a  court  which  bore  his  name;  but  it  was 
not  foolish  to  be  affected  with  some  tenderness  of  regard  for  a  f 
place  in  which  1  liad  sl-l-u  him  a  gi'eat  deal,  from  whence  I  had 
often  issued  a  better  and  a  liappier  man  tlian  when  1  went  in, 
and  which  had  often  appeared  to  me  in  my  imagination,  wliile 
I  trod  its  pavement  in  the  solemn  darkness  of  the  night,  to  be 
sacred  to  wisdom  and  piety.' 

On  Wednesday,  April  3  [1776],  in  the  morning  I  found  hira 
very  busy  [in  Bolt  Court]  putting  his  books  in  order  ;  and  as  they 
were  generally  very  old  ones,  clouds  of  dust  were 
Johnson,  flying  arouud  him.  He  had  on  a  pair  of  large  gloves 
17/6,  JEt.  67.  g^g]^  gg  tiejgers  use.  His  present  appearance  put  me 
in  mind  of  my  uncle  Dr.  Boswell's  description  of  him  :  '  A 
robust  genius,  born  to  grai)ple  with  whole  libraries,' 

On  Monday,  March  19th  [1781],  I  arrived  in  London,  and  on 
Tuesday  the  20th,  met  him  in  Fleet  Street  walking,  or  rather, 
Boswell's  intleed,  moving  along ;  for  his  peculiar  march  is  thus 
Johnson,  described  in  a  Short  Life  of  him  published  [by  Kears- 
ley]  very  soon  after  his  death  :  '  When  he  walked  the 
streets,  what  with  the  constant  roll  of  his  head,  and  the  con- 
comitant motion  of  his  body,  he  appeared  to  make  his  way  by 
that  motion,  independent  of  his  feet.'  That  he  was  often  much 
stared  at  while  he  advanced  in  this  manner  may  easily  he  be- 
lieved ;  but  it  was  not  safe  to  make  sport  of  one  so  robust  as  he 
was.  Mv.  Langton  saw  him  one  day,  in  a  fit  of  absence,  by  a 
sudden  start  drive  the  load  off  a  porter's  back,  and  walk  forward 
briskly  without  being  conscious  of  what  he  had  done.  The 
porter  was  very  angry,  but  stood  still,  and  eyed  the  huge  figure 
with  nnich  earnestness,  till  he  was  satisfied  that  his  wisest  course 
was  to  be  quiet  and  take  up  his  burthen  again. 

Dr.  Johnson  died  at  Bolt  Covn't  on  the  13th  of  December, 
1 784,  and  wa.s  buried  on  the  20th  of  the  same  month,  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  Charles  Burney  the  younger,  in  a 
letter  to  Dr.  Parr,  dated  December  21,  gives  the  following 
account  of  his  funeral  :  — 


1709-1784.]  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  165 

Yesterday  I    followed    our  ever-lamented   friend    Dr.  Johnson 
to  his  last  mansion.  .  .  .  He  was   followed   to  the  Abbey  by  a 
large  troop   of  friends.     Ten  mourning-coaches   were 
ordered  by  the  executors  for  those  invited.     Besides  work  "of 
these,  eight  of  his  frieiuls  or  admirers  clubbed  for  two  ^^-  Samuel 

'       "  _  Fair. 

more  carriages,  in  one  of  which  I  had  a  seat.  But  the 
executor,  Sir  John  Hawkins,  did  not  manage  things  well ;  for 
there  was  no  anthem  or  choir  service  performed,  no  lesson,  but 
merely  what  is  read  over  every  old  woman  that  was  buried  by  the 
parish.  Surely,  surely,  my  dear  sir,  this  was  wrong,  very  wrong. 
Dr.  Taylor  read  the  service,  but  so  so.  He  lies  nearly  under 
Shakspere's  monument,  with  Garrick  at  his  right  hand,  just 
opposite  the  monument  erected  not  long  ago  for  Goldsmith  by 
him  and  some  of  his  friends. 

Dr.  Johnson's  house  in  Bolt  Court  was  destroyed  soon 
after  his  death,  but  its  immediate  neighbors  kave  been  little 
changed  during  the  last  hundred  years. 

It  was  to  this  house  that  the  elder  D'Israeli  and  Samuel 
Eogers  (q.  v.)  as  young  men  both  brought  their  poems,  in 
search  of  encouragement  and  advice. 

Dr.  Johnson  for  many  years  worshipped  in  the  Chiu'ch  of 
St.  Clement  Danes,  Strand;  and  on  his  pew,  iS^o.  18  in 
the  North  Gallery,  is  a  brass  plate  bearing  the  following 
insci'iption  :  — 

In  this  pew,  and  beside  this  pillar,  for  many  years  attended 
Divine  Service,  the  celebrated  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  the  Philoso- 
pher, the  Poet,  the  great  Lexicographer,  the  Profound  Moralist, 
and  Chief  Writer  oi  his  time.  Born  1709.  Died  1784.  In 
remembrance  and  honor  of  noble  faculties,  nobly  employed,  some 
inlialjitants  of  the  Parish  of  St.  Clement  Danes  have  placed  this 
.slight  memorial  a.  d.  18.51. 

On  the  9th  of  April  [1773],  being  Good  Friday,  I  breakfasted 
with   Johnson    on   tea  and   cross-buns.     He   carried  me   to  the 
Church  of  St.  Clement  Danes,  where  he  had  his  seat  ;  Bosweli's 
and    his  l:)ehavior  was,  as  I  had  imagined  to  myself,  li^s'l^'^t  64. 
solemn  and  devout.     I  never  shall  forget  the  tremulous 


1G6  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  [1709-1784. 

earnestness  with  wliicli  lie  pronounced  the  luvl'iil  petition  of  the 

Litany:  'In   the    hour  oi'  death   and  at  the  day   of  judgment, 

good  Lord,  deliver  us.' 

April   4,  1771),  Easter  Day.—  I  rose  about  half  an  hour  after 

nine,  transcribed  the  prayer  written  last  night,  and  by  neglecting 

Joiinson's      *°  count  time  sat  too  long  at  breakfast,  so  that  I  came 

l^'-i'T.  to  church  at  the  first  lesson.     I  attended  the  Litanv 

Ros  well's  1,      i  .         1  11  1       1  " 

.Toiinson,  pretty  well,  but  m  the  pew  could  not  attend  the 
i</!t,  V  t.  I  .  Qojjjjj^mjj^jj^  Service,  aiul  missed  the  prayer  for  the 
Church  j\Iilitant.  ...  1  then  received,  I  \io\w  with  earnestness  ; 
and  while  others  received,  sat  down  ;  but  thinking  that  posture, 
though  usual,  improper,  I  rose  and  stood.  ...  I  gave  two  shil- 
lings to  the  plate. 

Johnson  was  a  man  of  many  clubs,  and  emphatically  him- 
self, as  he  describes  Boswell,  '  a  clubable  man.'  In  his 
Dictionary  he  defines  a  'club'  as  'an  assembly  of  good 
fellows  meeting  under  certain  conditions;'  and  to  a  gentle- 
man who  expressed  surprise  at  his  frequent  attendance  at 
some  of  the  humble  city  organizations  of  which  he  was  so 
fond,  he  said,  '  Sir,  the  great  chair  of  a  full  and  pleasant 
club  is  perhaps  the  throne  of  human  felicity.' 

One  of  Johnson's  earliest  clubs  was  founded  in  1748,  and 
was  known  as  the  Ivy  Lane,  or  King's  Head,  Club.  Sir 
John  Hawkins,   in  his  'Life   of  Johnson,'  says:  — 

The  Clul)  met  weekly  at  the  King's  Head,  a  famous  beefsteak 
house  in  Ivy  Lane  [Paternoster  Eow],  every  Tuesday  evening. 
Thither  Johnson  constantly  resorted,  and  with  a  disposition  to 
please  and  be  pleased,  would  pass  those  hours  in  a  free  and 
unrestrained  interchange  of  sentiment  which  otherwise  had  been 
spent  at  home  in  painful  reflection. 

Hawkins   has  mentioned   the  cordiality  with  which  (in  after 

Bosweil's       years)  he  insisted  that  such   of  the  members  of  the 

'i783"^yEt. 74.  ^^y  Lane  Club  as  survived   should   meet   again  and 

dine  together,  which  they  did  twice  at  a  tavern  and 

once  at  his  house. 


1709-1784.]  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  167 

Ivy  Lane  contains  a  few  old  houses,  but  the  King's  Head 
wos  destroyed  by  fire  some  years  ago.  There  was  in  1885, 
howevei-,  a  public  liouse  of  that  name  in  Canon  Alley, 
St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  and  still  another  and  much  older 
King's  Head,  dating  back  easily  to  Johnson's  day,  at  Xo.  41 
Newgate  Street,  which  adjoins  Queen's  Head  Alley,  and  is 
not  one  hundred  yaixls  east  of  Ivy  Lane. 

The  most  important  and  long-lived  of  Johnson's  clubs 
was  founded  by  him  and  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  in  IZGL  It 
had  no  name  but  The  Club  for  some  years,  and  first  met  in 
the  Turk's  Head  Tavern,  which  stood  then  at  the  corner  of 
Greek  and  Comptou  Streets,  Soho,  but  was  soon  after  removed 
to  the  neighboring  Gera,rd  Street  (see  Goldsmith,  p.  123). 
Among  the  original  members,  besides  Eeynolds  and  John- 
son, were  Burke  and  Goldsmith.  Later,  when  it  was  called 
the  Literary  Club,  George  Colman  (the  elder),  Boswell, 
Sheridan,  Garrick,  and  other  distinguished  men  were 
elected. 

They  met  at  the   Turk's   Head  in    Gerard   Street, 

c<   \  •         •  1        .  1  Boswell's 

bono,  one  evening  m  every  week  at  seven,  and  gener-  johnson, 
ally  continued  their  conversation  until  a   pretty  late  ^^^^'  ^^^-  ^^* 
hour. 

The  Club  met  in  different  taverns,  usually  in  St.  James's 
Street  after  Johnson's  death  ;  and  in  1864  it  celebrated  its 
centennial  anniversary  at  the  Clarendon  Hotel,  No.  169  New 
Bond  Street,  a  few  doors  from  Grafton  Street/^ 

To  another  of  his  clubs  Boswell  thus  alludes :  — 

On  Friday,  April  6tli  [1781],  he  carried  me  to  dine  at  a  club 
which,  at  his  desire,  had  been  lately  formed  at  the  „ 

_  •'  Bosweir.s 

Queen's  Arms  in   St.  Paul's   Churchyard.      He   told  Joiinsoii,  ^ 
Mr.  Hoole  that  he  wished  to  have  a  City  Club,  and      "  ' "    • 
asked   him  to  collect  one  ;   but,  said  he,   '  Don't   let   them   he 
patriots.'     The  company  were  to-day  very  sensible,  well-behaved 
men. 


168  SAMUEL   JUllNSON.  [1709-1784. 

There  is  no  'Queen's  Arms'  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard 
now,  although  there  was  an  old  tavern  bearing  that  sign  at 
the  junction  of  Newgate  Street  and  St.  Martin's-le-Grand 
until  within  a  few  years  (see  D'Urpey,  p.  97). 

A  short  time  before  his  death  he  organized  a  club  in  the 
Essex  Head  Tavern,  which  stood  at  No.  40  Essex  Street, 
Strand,  as  late  as  1885,  on  the  corner  of  Devereux  Court, 
and  a  few  doors  from  the  site  of  the  famous  Grecian  (see 
'Addison,  p.  7).  It  was  kept  by  an  old  servant  of  the 
Thrales.  The  club  was  unpretentious ;  and,  as  Johnson 
wrote  to  Eeynolds,  '  the  terms  are  lax,  and  the  expenses 
light.  We  meet  thrice  a  week,  and  he  who  misses  forfeits 
twopence.'     Sir  Joshua  did  not  join. 

Some  of  the  rules  of  this  club,  as  preserved  to  us,  are 
worthy  of  perusal  :  — 

The  Club  shall  consist  of  four-and-twenty.  .  .  .  Every  member 
is  at  liberty  to  introduce  a  friend  once  a  week,  hut  not  oftener. 
.  .  .  Every  member  present  at  the  Club  shall  spend  at  least  six- 
pence ;  and  every  mendjer  who  stays  away  shall  forfeit  three- 
pence. .  .  .  There  shall  be  no  general  reckoning,  but  every  man 
shall  adjust  his  own  expenses.  .  .  .  One  penny  shall  be  left  by 
each  member  for  the  waiter. 

Leigh  Hunt,  in  'The  Town,'  declares  that  Dr.  Johnson 
was  probably  in  every  tavern  and  coffee-house  in  Fleet 
Street ;  but  the  Mitre  was  unquestionably  his  favorite,  and 
is  now  most  familiarly  associated  with  his  name. 

I  had  learned  tliat  his  place  of  frequent  resort  was  the  Mitre 
Tavern  in  Fleet  Street,  where  he  loved  to  sit  up  late.  ...  I 
called  oil  him,  and  we  went  thither  at  nine.  We 
johns'on'  had  a  good  suj.per  and  port-wine,  of  which  he  then 
1763,  ^i.  54  sometimes  drank  a  bottle.  The  orthodox  high-church 
sound  of  the  Mitre,  the  figure  and  manner  of  the  celeljrated 
Samuel  Johnson,  the  extraordinary  power  and  precision  of  his 
conversation,  and  the  pride  arising  from  finding  myself  admitted 
to  his  companionship,  produced  a  variety  of  sensations   and   a 


1709-1781]  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  169 

pleasing  elevation  of  mind  beyond  what  I  had  ever  before  expe- 
rienced. .  .  .  We  finished  a  couple  of  bottles  of  port,  and  sat  till 
between  one  and  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

At   night   [February,    1766]    I    supped   with  Johnson   at   the 

Mitre  Tavern,    that  we  mi^ht  renew  our   social  inti-  „ 

'     .  °  .  Boswell  s 

macy  at  the  original  place  of  meeting.     But  there  was  Johnson, 
now  a   considerable  difference  in  his  way  of  living. 
Having  had  an  illness   in  which  he  was  advised   to   leave   off 
wine,  he  had  from  that  period  continued  to  abstain  from  it,  and 
drank  only  water  or  lemonade. 

The  Mitre  stood  at  ISTo.  39  Fleet  Street.  The  Mitre,  in 
Mitre  Court,  No.  44  Fleet  Street,  is  not  the  Mitre  of  John- 
son and  Goldsmith,  although  generally  so  considered,  even 
by  Peter  Cunningham,  the  most  careful  and  correct  of  guides 
to  London. 

A  favorite  tavern  of  Dr.  Johnson  was  the  famous  Devil 
Tavern  of  Ben  Jonson's  day.  It  stood  on  the  site  of  Child's 
Bank,  Xo.  1  Fleet  Street,  between  the  Temple  Gate  and 
Temple  Bar,  —  Hunt  says,  '  within  a  door  or  two  of  Temple 
Bar,'  —  and  was  taken  down,  according  to  Hare,  in  1788 
(see  Ben  Jonsox,  p.  175),  Here  in  17ol  Dr.  Johnson  gave  a 
supper  to  Mrs.  Charlotte  Lenox,  in  honor  of  the  publication 
of  her  fii'st  novel,  '  The  Life  of  Harriet  Stuart.' 

The  place  appointed  was  the  Devil  Tavern  ;  and  there,  about 
the  hour  of  eight,  Mrs.  Lenox  and  her  husband,  as  also  the  club 
rivy   Lane   Club]    to    the   number    of    near   twenty, 

^■,    -,         rn,  ■,  it,  Hawkins's 

assembled.  ihe  supper  was  elegant,  and  Johnson  Life  of  John- 
had  directed  that  a  magnificent  hot  apple-pie  should  ''^""'  ' 
make  a  part  of  it  ;  and  tliis  he  would  ha'S'e  stuck  with  bay  leaves, 
because,  forsooth,  Mrs.  Lenox  was  an  authoress.  .  .  .  About  five 
[a.  M.]  Johnson's  face  shone  with  meridian  splendor,  though  his 
drink  had  been  only  lemonade.  The  dawn  of  day  began  to  put 
us  in  mind  of  our  reckoning  ;  but  the  waiters  were  all  so  over- 
come with  sleep  that  it  was  two  hours  before  a  bill  could  be  had, 
and  it  was  not  until  near  eight  that  the  creaking  of  the  street 
door  gave  the  signal  for  our  depaiture. 


170  SAMUEL  JOHNSON.  [1709-1784. 

Auotlier  of  Johnson's  taverns  was  the  Crown  and  Anchor, 
No.  37  Arundel  Street,  Strand,  which  extended  in  the  rear  to 
Mitford  Lane.  The  Wliittington  Chib  met  at  this  tavern 
many  years  later  (see  Jeurold,  p.  155)  ;  as  did  P>obus  Smith's 
'  King  of  Clubs'  (see  Kogekh). 

He  frequented  also  the  Turk's  Head,  No.  142  Strand,  near 
Somerset  House,  afterwards  the  house  of  Chapman  the 
publisher,  and  the  first  London  home  of  'George  Eliot'  (see 
Mary  Ann  Evans,  p.  98).  In  1885  it  was  a  tourist's 
ticket-office. 

At  night  [July  21,  1763]  Mr.  Johnson  and  I  supped  in  a  pri- 

Boswell's       '^'^•te  room  at  tiie  Turk's  Head  Coffee  House,  in  the 

1703' m"  54    Strand.     'I  encourage  this  house,'  said  he;   'for  the 

mistress   of  it  is  a  good   civil   woman,  and   has  not 

much  business.' 

In  1763  Johnson  is  described  as  reading  'Irene'  to  Peter 
Garrick,  at  the  Foixntaine  Tavern,  No.  103  Strand,  but  no 
longer  in  existence.    Slrype  describes  it  as  '  a  very  fine  tavern, 
very  conveniently  built,'  and  as  fronting  on  the  Strand  '  close 
to  the   alley  leading  to  Fountain  Court.'     Simpson's   was 
erected  on  its  site.    The  name  of  Fountain  Coin-t  was  changed 
to  Savoy  Buildings  in  the  summer  of  1884.     He  was  often  to 
be  found  at  Clifton's,  in  Butcher  Row,  behind  St.  Clement 
Danes,  and  on  the  site  of  the  front  of  the  New  Law  Courts  ; 
at  Tom's  Coffee  House,  No.  17  Russell  Street,  Covent  Gar- 
den, taken  down  in  1865  (see  Gibber,  p.  55) ;  at  Will's,  corner 
of  Bow  and  Russell  Streets  (see  Addison,  p.  7) ;  at  the  Brit- 
ish Coffee  House,  Cockspur  Street^"  (see  Smollett)  ;  at  the 
Old  Red  Lion  Tavern,  St.  John  Street  Road,  Islington  (see 
Goldsmith,  p.  125) ;  and  at  the  Old  Baptist  Head  Tavern, 
St.  John's  Lane,  Clerkenwell  (see  Goldsmith,  p.  126).     There 
is  a  general  impression  that  Johnson  was  a  frequenter  of  the 
Cock,  No.  201  Fleet  Street"  (see  Pbpys),  and  of  the  Cheshire 
Cheese,  No.  16  Wine  Office  Court,  Fleet  Street  (see  Gold- 


1573-74-1637.]  BEN  JONSON.  171 

SMITH,  p.  1 20) ;  but  although  both  of  these  existed  before 
his  day,  a  careful  reading  of  his  Life  by  Boswell  has  failed 
to  discover  any  allusion  to  them. 


BEN   JONSOK 

1573-74-1637. 


M 


■  ITCH  of  the  story  of  Jonson's  life  rests  upon  mere  tra- 
dition. Contemporary  authorities  differ  in  many 
respects  in  their  meagre  accounts  of  him  ;  and  the  later 
biographers  seem  to  agree  only  in  doubting  the  statements 
made  by  his  contemporaries. 

All  that  is  related  of  Jonson  in  the  '  History  of  the  Wor- 
thies of  England,  Endeavored  by  Thomas  Fuller,  D.D.,'  and 
in  '  The  Lives  of  Eminent  Persons,  by  John  Aubrey,'  is 
quoted  hei'e  in  full. 

Fuller  lived  from  1608  to  1661  ;  Aubrey,  from  1626  to 
1700.     Fuller  says  ('  Westminster,'  vol.  ii.  )  :  — 

Benjamin  Jobuson  [sic]  was  born  in  this  City  [Westminster]. 
Though  I  cannot,  with  all  my  industrious  inquiry,  find  him  iu 
his  cradle,  I  can  fetch  him  from  his  long  coats.  When  a  little 
child  he  lived  in  Hartshorne  Lane,  near  Charing  Cross,  where  his 
mother  married  a  bricl^layer  for  her  second  husband.  He  was  first 
bred  in  a  private  school  in  St.  Martin's  Church  [iu  the  Fields], 
then  in  Westminster  School  [see  Churchill,  p.  51].  He  was 
suitably  admitted  into  St.  John's  College,  in  Cambridge,  where 
he  continued  but  a  few  weeks  for  want  of  further  maintenance, 
beiuff  fain  to  return  to  the  trade  of  his  father-in-law.  And  let 
them  blush  not  that  have,  but  those  who  have  not,  a  lawful  call- 
ing. He  helped  in  the  structure  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  where,  having 
a  trowel  in  his  hand,  he  had  a  book  in  his  pocket. 


172  BEN  JONSON.  [1573-74-1G37 

Hartshonie  Lane  has  since  been  called  Northumberland 
Street  (Strand),  and  entirely  rebuilt. 

Malone,  in  his  SShakspere,'  says  that  he  'found  in  the 
register  o£  St.  Martin's  that  a  Mrs.  jNlargaret  Jonson  was 
married  in  November,  1575,  to  Mr.  Thomas  Fowler,'  and 
this  Margaret  Jonson  he  believes  to  have  been  the  mother 
of  Ben.  The  old  Church  of  St.  Martin-iu-the-Fields  was 
taken  down  in   1720. 

His  mother  [Ben  Jonson's]  after  bis  father's  death,  iiiaiiied  n 
bricklayer,  and  't  is  generally  sayd,  that  he  wrought  some  time 
with  his  father-iii-lawe,  and  particularly  on  the  garden 
Li"es^o/  wall  of  Lincoln's  Inne,  next  to  Chancery  lane,  and 
Persons*^:  that  ...  a  bencher  walking  thro'  and  hearing  him 
Jonson.  repeat  some  Greeke  verses  out  of  Homer,  discoursing 
with  him,  and  finding  him  to  have  a  witt  extraordinary,  gave  him 
some  exhibition  to  maintaine  him  at  Trinity  College  in  Cam- 
bridge. .  .  .  Then  he  came  o\*er  into  England,  and  acted  and 
wrote,  but  both  ill,  at  the  Green  Curtaine,  a  kind  of  nursery,  or 
obscure  play  house,  somewhere  in  ye  suburbs  (I  think  towards 
Shoreditch  or  Clerkenwell).  .  .  .  Long  since,  in  King  James's 
time,  I  have  heard  my  Uncle  Denver  say  (who  knew  him)  that 
he  lived  without  Temple  Barre  at  a  Combe-maker's  shop  about  the 
Elephant  and  Castle.  In  his  later  time  he  lived  in  Westminster, 
in  the  house  under  wch  you  passe  as  you  goe  out  of  the  Church- 
yard into  the  old  palace,  where  he  dyed.  He  lies  buryed  in  the 
North  aisle  in  the  path  of  Square  Stone  (the  rest  is  lozenge)  op- 
posite to  the  scutcheon  of  Robertus  de  Ros,  with  this  inscription 
only  on  him,  in  a  pavement  square,  blew  marble,  about  14  inches 
square,  O,  Rare  Ben  Jonson. 

The  Green  Curtain  was  the  Curtain  Theatre,  Shoreditch. 
Its  exact  site  it  is  quite  impossible  to  determine  now,  although 
Halliwell  Phillipps,  in  his  '  Illustrations  of  the  Life  of  Shak- 
spere'  (London,  1874),  places  it  'on  the  south  side  of  Holy- 
well Lane,  in  or  near  the  place  called  Curtain  Court,  which 
was  afterwards  called  Gloucester  Row  and   now  Gloucester 


1573-74-1637.]  BEN  JONSON.  173 

Street.'  It  does  not  appear  on  any  of  the  maps  of  London 
of  its  day,  and  Stow  simply  describes  it  as  '  standing  on  the 
8.  W.  side  [of  Shoreditch]  towards  the  Fields.' 

Of  the  Elephant  and  Castle  there  is  no  trace  left.  It  was 
oji  the  south  side  of  the  Strand,  between  Temple  Bar  and 
Essex  Street.  The  gateway  to  Lincoln's  Inn  was  still  stand- 
ing in  188.5  in  Chancery  Lane,  nearly  opposite  Cursitor 
Street,  and  bore  the  date  1518. 

This  account  I  received  from  Mr.  Isaac  Walton   (who  wrote 
Dr.  Jo  Donne's  Life,  etc)  December  2,  1680,  being  then  eighty- 
seven  years  of  age  ;  '  I  only  knew  Ben  Jonson,  but 
my  Lord  of  Winton  knew  him  very  well,  and  sayes  he  Lives  of'' 
was  in  the  6th  degree,  that   is  the  upermost  iforme,  persons': 

in  Westminster  scole,  at  which  time  his  father  dved,  Jonson.  foot- 

"  note, 

and  his  mother  married  a  bricklayer,  who  made  him 

(much  against  his  will)  to  help  in  bis  trade.  .  .  .  My  Lord  of 
Winton  told  me  he  told  him  he  was  (in  his  long  retyrement  and 
sickness,  when  he  saw  liim,  which  was  often)  nmch  afflickted, 
that  liee  had  profained  the  scripture  in  his  playes,  and  lamented 
it  with  horror  ;  yet  at  that  time  of  his  long  retyrement  his  pen- 
tions,  (so  much  as  came  in)  was  given  to  a  woman  that  governed 
him,  with  whom  he  lievd  and  dyed  nere  the  able  in  Westmin- 
ster ;  and  that  nether  he  nor  she  took  much  care  for  next  weike, 
and  wood  be  sure  not  to  want  wine,  of  which  he  vsually  tooke 
too  much  before  he  went  to  bed  if  not  oftner  and  soner.  My 
Lord  tells  me  he  knows  not,  but  thinks  he  was  born  in  West- 
minster.' 

If  Jonson  was  in  the  sixth  form  at  Westminster  School 
when  his  father  died,  his  mother  could  not  have  been  the 
Margaret  Jonson  the  record  of  whose  marriage  in  1575 
Mr.  Malone  saw  in  the  register  of  St.  Martin's,  unless 
Jonson  was  born  earlier  than  1573-74,  the  generally  accepted 
date.^'^  The  '  Biographia  Britannica '  and  other  authorities 
say  that  he  was  a  posthumous  child. 

In  1598  Jonson  killed  'Gabriel  Spenser,  the  player'  in  a 
duel  in  Hoxton  Fields,  Shoreditch,  now  marked  bv  Hoxton 


174  BEN  JONSON.  [1573-74-1637. 

Square;    and   he   is   said    to   have   been    Uving  in   1G07   in 
Bh^ckfriars,  where  the  scene  of  tlie  '  Alchymist '  is  laid. 
He  died  in  1037. 

Jonson's  grave  was  'dug  not  far  from  Drayton's.'  According  to 
the  local  tradition,  he  asked  the  king  (Charles  I.)  to  grant  him 
Dean  Stan-  ''^  favor.  '  What  is  it  ? '  said  the  king.  '  Give  me 
ley's  West-     eighteen  inches  of  square  ground.'     'Where?'  asked 

minster  "  i  o 

Abbey,  the   king.      '  In    Westminster   Abhey.'      This  is  one 

<  i.ip.  iv.  explanation  given  of  the  story  that  he  was  buried 
standing  upright.  Anotlier  that  it  was  with  a  view  to  his  readi- 
ness for  the  Resurrection.  .  .  .  This  [original]  stone  was  taken 
up  wlien  in  1821  the  nave  was  repaved,  and  was  brought  back 
from  the  stoneyard  of  the  clerk  of  the  works,  in  the  time  of 
Dean  Bucklaud,  by  Avliose  order  it  was  fitted  into  its  present 
place  in  the  north  wall  of  the  nave.  Meanwhile  the  original 
spot  had  been  marked  by  a  small  triangular  Ljzenge,  with  a  copy 
of  the  old  inscription.  When,  in  1849,  Sir  Robert  Wilson  was 
buried  close  by,  the  loose  sand  of  Jonson's  grave  (to  use  the  e.\- 
pression  of  the  clerk  of  the  works,  who  superintended  the 
operation)  '  rippled  in  like  a  quicksand,'  and  the  clerk  '  saw  the 
two  leg-bones  of  Jonson  fixed  Ijult  upiight  in  the  sand,  as  though 
the  body  had  been  buried  in  the  upright  jjosition  ;  and  the  skull 
came  rolling  down  among  the  sand,  from  a  position  above  the 
leg-bones  to  the  bottoui  of  the  newly  made  grave.  There  was 
still  hair  upon  it,  and  it  was  of  red  color.'  It  was  seen  once 
more  on  the  digging  of  John  Hunter's  grave,  and  it  had  still 
traces  of  red  hair  upon  it. 

The  name  is  spelled  'Johnson '  on  the  tombstone. 

Jonson  was  also  associated  with  the  Globe  Theatre,  'near 
the  Bear  Gardens,'  South wark,  on  the  grounds  afterwards 
occupied  by  the  Brewery  of  Barclay  and  T-'erkins  (see  Shak- 
spere)  ;  and  with  its  neighbor  the  Rose  Theatre,  the  site 
of  which  was  at  the  north  end  of  the  short  alley  called  Rose 
Street  in  1885.  It  ran  from  Park  Street  towards  the  Bank- 
side,  and  lay  between  the  Bear  Gardens  and  the  Southwark 
Bridge  Crossing. 


1573-74-1637.]  BEN  JONSON.  175 

The  most  famous  of  Jouson's  public  resorts  was  the 
Devil  Tavern,  which  stood  at  iS^o.  1  Fleet  Street,  between 
the  Temple  Gate  and  Temple  Bar.  The  banking-house 
of  the  Childs  was  built  upon  its  site  in  1788.  Here  he 
gatliered  together  his  'boys,'  and,  as  he  himself  says,  'drank 
bad  wine  at  the  Devil.' 

The  first  speech  in  my  '  Catiline '  spoken  to  Scylla's  Beugem- 
GJiost  was  writ  alter  I  parted  with  my  iriends  at  the  son,  mms. 
Devil  Tavern.     I  had  drunk  well  that  night,  and  had  Duiwi™"  ^' 
brave  notions.  CoUection. 

The    great   room   [in    the    Devil    Tavern]   was   called    '  The 
Apollo!'     Thither  came  all  who  desired  to  be    'sealed   of  the 
tribe  of  Ben  ; '   here   Jonson   lorded  it  with   greater 
authority  than  Dryden  did   afterwards  at  Will's,  or  ham's  Hand- 
Addison  at  Button's.     The  rules  of  the  club,  drawn  Londo°[:  . 

up  in   the   pure   and   elegant   Latin   of   Jonson   and  iJevii 

'^  ^  .  °  ...  Tavern, 

placed  over   the   chimney,  were,  it  is  said,  engraven 

in  marble.  In  the  '  Tatler '  [No.  79]  they  are  described  as  being 
in  gold  letters  ;  and  this  account  agrees  Avith  the  rules  them- 
selves—  in  gold  letters,  upon  board  —  still  preserved  in  the 
banking-house  of  Messrs.  Child,  where  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  them  in  1843. 

A  bust  of  Apollo  and  a  board  containing  the  '  Welcome 
to  the  Oracle  of  Apollo,'  taken  from  the  Devil  at  the  time 
of  its  destruction  in  1788,  are  still  to  be  seen  in  an 
upper  hall  of  Child's  Bank ;  but  the  '  Rules,'  as  described 
by  Mr.  Cunningham,  are  not  to  be  found  there. 

Another  tavern  of  Jonson's  was  the  jMermaid  in  Cheap- 
side,  which  was  destroyed  in  the  Fire  of  1666. 

Jonson   is  described    as  wearing  a  loose  coachman's  coat,  fre- 
cpienting  the  Mermaid  Tavern,  where  he  drank  seas  of  scott's 
Canary,  then  reeling  home  to  bed,  and  after  a  profuse  ^jJap'^v' 
perspiration,  arising  to  his  dramatic  studies, 

Shakspere,  according  to  tradition,  was  a  frequenter  of  the 
Mermaid,  and  a  companion  there  of  Jonson. 


176  BKN  JONSON.  [1573-74-1637. 

Many  were  the  wit  combats  betwixt  Shalcspere  and  Ben  Jon- 
son,  wliich  two  I  beheld  like  a  Spanish  galleon  and  an  English 

man-ol'-war  ;    Master    Jonson,   like   the    former,    was 
Fuller's  ,     .,      n       ,  .   i  •      i  •  ^•  t    ■,  i  •      ,  • 

Wurtiiics  of    built  iar  higher  m  learning  ;   solid  but  slow  in  his 

"•'''"  ■  performances.  Shakspere  with  the  English  man-of- 
war,  lesser  in  bulk,  but  lighter  in  sailing,  could  turn  with  all  tides, 
tack  about,  and  take  advantage  of  uU  winds,  by  the  quickness 
of  his  wit  and  invention. 

As  Fuller  was  but  eight  years  old  when  Shakspere  died, 
his  accoiuits  of  what  he  saw  and  heard  of  Shakspere  in  the 
Mermaid  are  hardly  to  be  relied  upon. 

The  ]\Ierinaid  in  Bread  Street,  the  Mermaid  in  Friday  Street, 
and  the  Mermaid  in  Cheap,  were  all  one  and  the  same.  The 
Burns's  taveru  situated  behind  had  a  way  to  it  from  these 
Catalogue       thoroughfares,  but  it  was  nearer  to  Bread  Street  than 

of  the 

Beaufoy  Friday  Street.  .  .  .  The  site  of  the  Mermaid  is  clearly 
defined  from  the  circumstance  of  R.  W.,  a  haber- 
dasher of  small  wares  'twixt  Wood  Street  and  Milk  Street, 
adopting  the  same  sign,  '  Over  against  the  Mermaid  Tavern 
in  Cheapside.' 

Among  the  other  public  houses  frequented  by  Jonson 
were  the  Half  Moon  in  Aldersgate  Street,  marked  by  Half 
Moon  Alley  (see  Congreve,  p.  64);  'The  Falcon  near  the 
Theatre,  Bankside,'  marked  by  Falcon  Dock  and  Falcon 
Wharf,  Nos.  79  and  80  Bankside  (see  Shakspere)  ;  and  the 
Three  Cranes  in  the  Vintry,  described  by  Strype  as  being  in 
New  Queen  Street,  and  marked  now  by  Three  Cranes  Lane, 
Upper  Thames  Street,  which  runs  parallel  with  Queen  Street 
to  the  east  of  Southwark  Bridge  (see  Pepys).  '  The  Swan 
at  Charing  Cross,'  of  which  Jonson  speaks  pleasantly,  was 
probably  the  tavern  called  in  '  The  New  View  of  London,' 
published  in  1708,  the  'Swan  Inn  on  the  N.  W.  side  of 
the  Strand,  near  St.  Martin's  Lane  End.'  It  has  long  since 
disappeared. 


1795-1821.]  JOHN  KEATS.  177 

A  favorite  suburban  resort  of  Jonson  was  the  Three 
Pigeous  in  the  Market  Place  opposite  the  Town  Hall,  then 
the  Market  House,  of  Brentford.  It  was  taken  down  some 
years  ago,  and  a  modern  gin-palace  built  upon  its  site. 


JOHN   KEATS. 

1795-1821. 


K 


EATS    was   born   in  London  on  the  29th  of  October, 
1795. 


His  maternal  grandfather,  Jennings,  was  proprietor  of  a  large 
livery-stable  called    '  The   Swan   and   Hoop '   on  the  j,     ,, 
Pavement   in  Moorlields,  opposite   the   entrance   into  t'ons  of 

T-i-      1  ,-,.  XT-  1     p    T  .      .      ,    Writers  by 

l^ms bury  Circus.  .  .  .  Keats  s  father  was  the  pnncipal  cimries  and 
servant  in  'The  Swan  and  Hoop,' a  man  so  remark-  (]pncia°^e. 
ably  fine  in  common  sense  and  native  respectability  i^eats. 
that  I  perfectly  remember  the  warm  terms  in  which  his  demeanor 
used  to  be  canvassed  by  my  j^arents  after  he  had  been  to  visit  his 
boys. 

Keats  is  believed  to  have  been  born  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  these  stables,  the  exact  position  of  which 
cannot  now  positivel}'  be  determined,  although  old  maps  and 
directories  have  been  consulted,  and  the  memories  of  old  in- 
habitants of  that  portion  of  London  have  been  severely  taxed. 
Cunningham,  in  his  '  Hand-Book,'  places  the  '  Swan  and 
Hoop  Stables  at  No.  28,  on  the  Pavement  in  Moorfields  over 
against  the  riding-school,  now  [1850]  a  public  house  with 
that  name.'  But  since  Mr.  Cunningham  wrote,  the  Pave- 
ment has  been  extended  and  renumbered,  and  the  sign 
'Swan  and  Hoop'  is  no  longer  to  be  seen.  'No.  28  on 
the    Pavement'     in    1850    was    a    few    doors  from  London 


178  JOHN   KEATS.  [1795-1821. 

Wall.  The  riding-school  on  the  corner  of  the  Pavement 
and  West  Street,  which  leads  to  Finsbtiry  Circus,  standing 
in  1885,  may  perhaps  be  that  to  wliich  Mr.  Cunningham 
refers. 

Keats  was  educated  at  Enfield,  in  the  school  of  John 
Clarlvc,  father  of  Charles  Cowden  Clarke,  who  describes  it 
as  still  standing  in  1878.  It  had  already  been  converted 
into  a  railway-station ;  but  the  managers  of  the  company 
had  protected  the  buildings,  and  left  almost  intact  one  of 
the  few  remaining  specimens  of  graceful  English  architec- 
ture of  other  days.  In  1885,  however,  nothing  remained  of 
the  old  school  but  a  drawing  of  it,  pi'eserved  in  the  British 
Museum.  Its  bricks  had  been  used  in  the  construction 
of  neighboring  houses.  The  great  Eastern  Eailway  station 
stood  upon  its  site. 

Keats's  mother  died  in  1810,  while  he  was  at  this  school ; 
and  the  touching  story  of  his  grief  there,  of  his  hiding  him- 
self under  his  master's  desk  and  refusing  to  be  comforted,  has 
been  related  by  his  biographers.  He  left  Enfield  soon  after 
his  fii'st  great  sorrow,  and  studied  for  some  time  with  a 
surgeon  in  Edmonton,  living  in  Church  Street  in  a  house 
it  is  not  possible  to  identify  now.  It  was  near  the  '  Bay 
Cottage '  in  which  Charles  Lamb  thirty  yeai's  later  lived  and 
died. 

Charles  Cowden  Clarke  follows  Keats  from  one  London 
home  to  another  more  completely  than  do  any  of  his  regular 
biogi'ai)hers. 

Keats  came  to  town  in  1815,  to  enter  as  a  student  at 
St.  Thomas's  Hospital,  then  in  Southwark  (see  Akenside, 
p.  10)  ;  and  he  thus  wrote  to  Clarke  of  his  earliest  London 
lodgings  :  — 

Although  the  Borougli  is  a  Ijeastly  place  in  dirt,  turnings  and 
windings,  yet  No.  8  Dean  Street  is  not  difficult  to  find  ;  and  if  you 
•would  run  the  gauntlet  over  London  Bridge,  take  the  first  turning 


JOHN    KEATS. 


1795-1821.]  JOHN   liEATS.  179 

to  the  right,  and  moreover  knock  at  my  door,  which  is  nearly 
opposite  a  meeting,  you  would  do  me  a  charity,  which,  as  St. 
Paul  says,  is  the  lather  of  virtues. 

It  is  difficult  enough  to  find  No.  8  Deau  Street  now. 
The  railway  viaduct  has  swept  it  completely  away,  and  left 
only  a  house  or  two  in  Deau  Street,  which  runs  from  No.  199 
Tooley  Street,  near  Hay's  Lane,  uuder  the  railway  archway, 
towards  Thomas  Street. 

In  1816  Mr.  Clarke  writes:  — 

Keats  had  left  the  neighborhood  of  the  Borough,  and  was  now 
living  with  his  brother  in  apartments  over  the  second  floor  of  a 
house  in  the  Poultry,  over  the  passage  leading  to  the  Queen's 
Head  Tavern,  and  opposite  to  one  of  the  City  Companies'  Halls, 
—  the  Ironmongers',  I  believe. 

The  passage  leading  to  the  Queen's  Arms  Tavern,  and 
called  Bird  in  Hand  Court,  is  under  the  archway  num- 
bered, in  1885,  76  Cheapside,  near  the  Poultry.  It  is  al- 
most directly  opposite  Ironmonger  Lane,  where  stands  the 
Mercers'  Hall,  to  which  Mr.  Clarke,  confounding  the  name 
of  the  hall  with  the  name  of  the  street,  probably  alludes.^^ 

In  this  lodging  Keats  wrote  the  greater  part  of  his  first 
volume  of  *  Poems,'  published  in  1817.  He  was  shoi'tly 
after  the  guest,  for  a  time,  of  Leigh  Hunt  (q.  v.),  in  Kentish 
Town  ;  and  letters  of  his  to  Fanny  Brawne  written  in  1819 
were  dated  from  Great  Smith  Street,  and  25  College  Street, 
now  Great  College  Street,  Westminster.  No.  25  was  near  the 
corner  of  the  present  Tufton  Street.  He  also  visited  Hunt 
in  the  Vale  of  Health  (see  Hunt,  p.  148),  and  took  lodgings 
at  Well  Walk,  Hampstead,  '  in  the  first  or  second  house  on 
the  right  hand  going  up  the  Heath.'  Here  the  greater  part 
of  '  Endymion  '  was  written. 

Winding  south  from  the  Lower  Heath  [Hampstead]  there  is  a 
charming  little  grove  in  Well  Walk,  with  a  bench  at  the  end 


180  JOHN  IvEATS.  [1795-1821. 

whereon  I  last  saw  poor  Keats,  the  poet  of  *  The  Pot  of  Basil,' 
William  sitting  and  sobbing  his  dying  breath  into  a  handker- 
Northei-u  ^^^^^:  ghincing  jKUting  looks  towards  the  quiet  land- 
Heights  scape  he  had  delighted  in  so  much,  and  musing  as 
UaiMpsteaii.    i"  his  '  Ode  to  the  Nightingale.' 

His  memory  here  is  perpetuated  by  '  Keats  Corner'  and 
'Keats  Villa,'  —  two  modern  houses  in  Well  Eoad,  near  its 
crossing  with  Well  Walk. 

Leigh  It  was  on  the  same  day,  sitting  on  the  bench  in  Well 

Loid'^Byron  Walk  (the  one  against  the  wall),  that  he  [Keats]  told 

and  his  j^g^  with    unaccustomed   tears  in  his   eves,   that   his 

poraiies.  heart  was  breaking. 


O' 


Keats's  Bench,  so  marked  by  a  printed  sign,  stood  at  the 
end  of  Well  Walk  next  the  Heath  in  1885;'"  but  the  view  of 
the  quiet  landscape  has  been  spoiled  by  a  villa  opposite, 
built  after  Keats's   death. 

The  various  accounts  of  the  search  for  Keats's  last  Hamp- 
stead  home  are  so  interesting  that  they  are  given  here  at 
lenath  :  — 


'Ci' 


Keats  indeed  took  so  great  a  liking  to  Hampstead,  from  his 
stay  at  Hunt's,  that  he  became  a  resident  here  from  1817  till  he 
left  England  in  1820.  Here  he  wrote  his  '  Ode  to  a 
Hand-Book  Nightingale,'  '  St.  Agnes,'  '  Isabella,'  '  Hyperion,'  and 
Environs  of  hegan  the  '  Eudymion,'  which  he  finished  at  Burford 
London:         Bridge.     The  house  in  which  he  lodged  for  the  greater 

Hampstead.  n     ,         .  ,  ^^    t  itr  i    i^i 

part  of  the  time,  then  called  VVentwortn  Place,  is  now 
[1876]  named  Lawn  Bank,  and  is  the  end  house  but  one  on  the 
west  side  of  John  Street,  next  Wentworth  House.  His  walks  were 
m  his  later  months  limited  to  the  Lower,  or  the  Middle,  Heath 
Road,  the  seat  at  the  top  of  Well  Walk  being  his  goal  or  resting- 
place. 

From  this  time  [1816]  till  1820,  when  he  left,  in  the  last  stage 
of  consumption,  for  Italy,  Keats  resided  principally  at  Hamp- 
stead. During  most  of  this  time  he  lived  Avith  his  very  dear 
friend  Mr.  Charles  Brown,  a  Russian  merchant,  in  Wentworth 


1795-1821.]  JOHN   KEATS.  181 

Place,  Downshire  Hill,  by  Pond  Street,  Hampstead.     Previous  to 

this  he  and  his  brother  Thomas  had  occupied  apartments  at  the 

next  house  to    Mr.  Brown's.   ...  By  the  aid   of   the  William 

statements  of   Leigh  Hunt   and   Lord   Houghton,   we  JJ^^yj**''^ 
°  .  .  o  7  Northern 

may  trace  most  of  the  scenes  in  which  the  very  finest  Heights  of 
poetry  of  Keats  was   written,  for  the  noblest  of  his  The  v.iie  of 
productions  were  all    written  at   Hampstead.  ...   It  Health, 
is  to  be  regretted  that  Wentwortb  Place,  where  Keats  lodged,  and 
wrote   some  of  his  finest  poetry,  either  no   longer  exists  or  no 
longer  bears  that  name.     At  the  bottom  of  John  Street,  on  the 
left   hand  in   descending   the    hill,  is   a  villa  called  Wentworth 
House.  ...  I  made  the  most  vigorous  search    in   that  quarter, 
inquiring  of  the  tradesmen  daily  supplying  the  houses  there,  and 
of  two  residents  of  forty  and  fifty  years.     None  of  them  had  any 
knowledge  or  recollection  of  Wentworth  Place. 

H.  Buxton  Forman,  in  the  Appendix  to  '  The  Letters  of 
John  Keats  to  Fanny  Brawne,'  published  in  1878,  describes 
his  thorough  search  for  Wentworth  Place,  and  this  Hamp- 
stead home  of  Keats,  and  thus  sums  up  the  results  :  — 

The  gardener  of  Wentworth  House,  of  wdiom,  among  many 
others,  I  have  inquired  for  Wentworth  Place,  assures  me  very 
positively  that  some  fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago,  when  Lawn  Bank 
(then  called  Lawn  Cottage)  was  in  bad  repair,  and  the  rain  had 
washed  nearly  all  the  color  off  the  front,  he  used  to  read  the 
words 'Wentworth  Place'  painted  in  large  letters  beside  the  top 
window  at  the  extreme  left  of  the  old  part  of  the  house,  as  one 
faces  it.  .  .  .  Not  perfectly  satisfied  with  this  local  evidence,  I 
forwarded  to  Mr.  Severn  a  sketch-plan  of  the  immediate  neigh- 
borhood, that  he  might  identif)'- the  houses  in  which  he  visited 
Keats  and  Brown,  and  the  Brawne  family.  He  says  that  Went- 
worth House  and  Lawn  Bank  (and  these  two  blocks  only)  con- 
stituted Wentworth  Place,  and  that  it  was  in  Lawn  Bank  that 
Brown  and  Mrs.  Brawne  had  their  respective  residences.  ...  It 
will  doubtless  be  admitted  as  proved  that  in  Wentworth  House 
and  Lawn  Bank  we  have  the  immortalized  Wentworth  Place  of 
the  period  to  which  the  present  volume  relates  ;  and  Mr.  Howitt 
and  Mr.  Thorne  both  deserve  our  thanks  for  carrying  the  inquiry 


182  ClIAHLES   LAMB.  [1775-1834. 

so  nearly  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion  as  to  land  the  investigator, 
one  in  one  of  the  right  houses  and  one  in  the  other.  It  is  true  that 
Mr.  Howitt  transfers  his  house  from  one  side  of  John  Street  to  the 
other,  and  it  must  be  noted  that  Mr.  Thome  errs  in  two  points. 
Lawn  Bank  alone  was  certainly  not  Wentworth  Place  ;  and  Keats 
cannot  be  said  to  have  lodged  there,  for  he  was  certainly  Brown's 
guest. 

Lawn  Bank  in  1885  was  an  irregular  two-story  house  on 
the  south  side  of  John  Street,  Downshire  Hill,  nearly  oppo- 
site St.  John's  Chapel,  and  next  to  Wentworth  House.  On 
the  other  side  is  a  villa  called  '  Keats  Cottage.'  It  seems  in 
Keats's  time  to  have  been  a  semi-detached  house,  the 
Brawnes  occupying  the  western,  and  Charles  Brown,  with 
whom  Keats  lived,  the  eastern  and  smaller  half.  It  is 
hardly  visible  from  the  road,  because  of  thick  foliage  and  a 
high  board  fence.  From  this  house  Keats  set  out,  in  1820, 
for  Italy,  never  to  return. 


CHARLES   LAMB. 

1775-1834. 

npHERE  is,  in  Lamb's  familiar  letters  and  in  many  of 
his  essays,  so  nnich  that  is  autobiographical,  and  his 
friends  have  so  often  and  so  fondly  described  him  and  his 
sister  in  their  home  life,  that  no  attempt  will  be  made  here 
to  tell  Lamb's  story  except  as  he  has  told  it  himself,  or  as  it 
has  been  told  by  those  who  knew  and  loved  him  well. 

He  first  saw  the  light  in  Crown  Office  Row,  in  the  Temple, 
in  1775. 

I  was  bom  and  passed  the  first  seven  j'ears  of  my  life  in  the 
Temple.     Its  church,  its  halls,  its  gardens,  its  fountain,  its  river, 


1775-1834.]  CHARLES  LAMB.  183 

I  had  almost  said  —  for  in  those  young  years  what  was  this  kin<' 
of  rivers  to  me  but  a  stream  that  watered  our  pleasant  places  1  — 
these  are  of  my  oldest  recollections.  .  .  .  What  a  tran- 
sition for  a  countryman  visiting  London  for  the  first  EUa:  The 
time,  the  passing  from  the  crowded  Strand  or  Fleet  ^s^f  the**" 

Street,   by  unexpected  avenues,   into    its    ma"nificent  i""'"'", 

,  .  ,       .  ®  Temple, 

ample    squares,    its    classic   green    recesses  !     What  a 

cheerful  liberal  look  hath   that  part  of  it  which,  from  three  sides, 

overlooks  the  greater  garden  ;   that  goodly  pile  of  building  strong, 

albeit   of  Paper    height,   confronting  with   mossy    contrast    the 

lighter,   older,  more  fantastically  shrouded    one,  named    of  Har- 

court,  with  the  cheerful  Crown  Office  Row  (place  of  my  kindly 

engendure),  right  opposite  the  stately  stream,  which  washes  the 

garden-foot  with  her  yet  scarcely  trade-polluted  waters,  and  seems 

but  just  weaned  from  her  Twickenham  Naiades  !     A  man  would 

give  something  to  have  been  born  in  such  places. 

The  eastern  half  of  the  block,  comprising  Nos.  1,  2,  and 
3  Crown  Office  Row,  still  stood  in  1885  as  when  built  in 
1737.  The  western  end,  Nos.  4,  5,  and  G,  becoming  miin- 
habitable,  was  torn  down  and  rebuilt  in   1859-1861. 

According  to  Fitzgerald's  Memoir,  Lamb  went  to  a  school 
ovei'lookng  '  a  discolored,  dingy  garden  in  the  passage  lead- 
ing into  Fetter  Lane  from  Bartlett's  Buildings.  This  was 
close  to  Holborn.'  It  was  afterward  called  Bartlett's  Pas- 
sage, but  no  trace  of  the  school  remains. 

In  1782  'Charles  Lamb  son  of  John  Lamb,  Scrivener,  and 
of  Elizabeth,  his  wife,'  entered  the  school  of  Christ-Hospital 
(see  Coleridge,  p.  57,  and  Hunt,  p.  144),  where  he  remained 
until  he  was  fifteen.  Talfourd,  in  his  '  Life  of  Lamb ' 
(chap,   i.),  says  :  — • 

Lamb  was  an  amiable,  gentle  boy,  very  sensible  and  keenly 
<)!)serving,  indulged  by  his  schoolfellows  and  by  his  masters  on 
account  of  his  infirmity  of  speech.  His  countenance  was  mild, 
his  complexion  clear  brown,  with  an  expression  which  might  lead 
you  to  think  he  was  of  Jewish  descent.     His  eyes  were  not  of  the 


184  CHARLES   LAMB.  [1775-1834. 

same  color,  —  one  was  hazel,  the  other  had  speck^^  of  gray  in  the 

iris,  mingled  as  one  sees  red  spots  in  the  bloodstone.     His  step 

was  plantigrade,  which  made  his  walk  slow  and  peculiar,  adding 

to  the  staid  appearance  of  his  iigure. 

I  remember  L at  school,  and  can  well  recollect  that  he  had 

some  peculiar  advantages,  which  I  and  others  of  his  schoollellows 

had  not.     llis  friends  lived  in  town,  and  were  near  at 
Essays  ol 

Elia  :  hand,  and  he  had  the  privilege  of  going  to  see  them 

iioypitai        almost  as  often  as  he  wished.  .  .  .  L 's  governor  (so 

tweMty*^'  we  called  the  patron  who  presented  him  to  the  founda- 
Yeai-s  ago.  j|qj^^  jj^.g^  jj^  ,^  manner  under  his  paternal  roof.  Any 
complaint  he  had  to  make  was  sure  of  being  attended  to.  This  was 
understood  at  Christ's,  and  was  an  effectual  screen  to  him  against 
the  severity  of  masters,  or,  worse,  the  tyranny  of  the  monitors. 

Leigh  Hunt,  in  his  '  Autobiography  '  (vol.  i.  chap,  iv.), 
gives  his  recollections  of  Lamb  when  he  came  back  to  visit 
the  old  familiar  school  scenes,  as  he  was  so  fond  of  doing :  — 

I  have  spoken  of  the  distinguished  individuals  Iti-ed  at  Christ- 
Hospital,  including  Coleridge  and  Lamb,  who  left  the  school  not 
lonff  before  I  entered  it.  Coleridge  I  never  saw  until  he  was  old. 
Lamb  I  recollect  coming  to  see  the  boys,  with  a  pensive,  brown, 
handsome,  and  kingly  face,  and  a  gait  advancing  with  a  motion 
from  side  to  side,  between  involuntary  consciousness  and  at- 
tempted ease.  His  brown  complexion  may  have  been  owing  to  a 
visit  in  the  country,  his  air  of  uneasiness  to  a  great  burden  of 
sorrow.     He  dressed  with  a  Quaker-like  plainness. 

For  a  short  time  after  quitting  school  (in  November,  1789) 
Lamb  was  employed  in  the  South  Sea  House  with  his 
brother  John,  who  is  described  in  '  My  Relations  '  as  James 
Elia,  and  who  was  some  twelve  years  his  senior. 

Reader,  in  thy  passage  from  the  Bank,  where  thou  hast  been 

receiving  thy   half-yearly  dividends  (supposing  thou 

Elia :  The      fii't  a  lean  annuitant  like  myself),  to  the  Flower  Pot,  to 

House ^"^^      secure  a  place   for   Dalston   or  Shacklewell,  or  some 

other  thy  suburban  retreat  northerh^  didst  thou  never 

observe  a  melancholy-looking  handsome  brick  and  stone  edifice  to 


1775-1834.]  CHARLES  LAMB.  185 

the  left,  where  Threadneedle  Street  abuts  upon  Bishopsgate  ?  I 
dare  say  thou  hast  often  admired  its  magnificent  portals,  ever 
gaping  wide,  and  disclosing  to  view  a  grave  coui't  with  cloisters 
and  pillars,  with  few  or  no  traces  of  goers-in  or  comers-out.  .  .  . 
Such  is  the  South  Sea  House  ;  at  least,  such  it  was  forty  years  ago, 
when  I  knew  it,  —  a  magnificent  relic.  .  .  .  Peace  to  the  Manes 
of  the  Bubble.  Silence  and  destitution  are  upon  thy  walls,  proud 
house,  for  a  memorial.  Situated  as  thou  art,  in  the  very  heart  of 
striving  and  living  commerce,  amid  the  fret  and  fever  of  specula- 
tion, with  the  Bank,  and  the  'Change,  and  the  India  House  about 
thee,  in  the  heyday  of  present  prosperity,  with  their  important 
laces,  as  it  were,  insulting  thee,  their  poor  neighbor  out  of  business, 
to  the  idle  and  merely  contemplative  —  to  such  as  me  ;  old 
house  !  there  is  a  charm  in  thy  quiet  —  a  cessation  —  a  coolness 
from  business,  an  indolence  almost  cloistral,  which  is  delightful. 

The  South  Sea  House  was  partly  destroyed  by  fire  in 
1826.  A  modern  South  Sea  House  stands  upon  its  site.  It 
fronts  on  Threadneedle  Street. 

Lamb  entered  the  service  of  the  East  India  Company,  as 
an  accountant,  on  the  5th  of  April,  1792.  The  situation  of 
the  East  India  House  is  thus  described  in  Brayley's  '  Lon- 
don and  Middlesex,'  vol.  iii.  :  'From  Nos.  12  to  21  Leaden- 
hall  Street,  the  East  India  House  at  the  corner  of  No.  7 
Leadenhall  Market.'    This  building  was  taken  down  in  1862. 

Lamb  left  the  India  House  in  1825.  On  the  6th  of  April 
he  wrote  to  Wordsworth  :  — 

'  Here  I  am  .then,  after  thirty-three  years  of  slavery  sitting  in 
my  own  room   at  eleven  o'clock  this  finest  of  April  mornings,  a 
freed  man.'     And  to  Barton  he  wrote  later,  '  Take  in 
briefly,  that  for  a  few  days  I  was  painfully  oppressed  by  jjfe  of 
so  mighty  a  change,  but  it  is  becoming  daily  more  nat-  ^^^l}\y_ 
ural  to  me.  ...  I  would  not  serve  another  seven  years 
for  seven  hundred  thousand  pounds.     I  have  got  £  441  net  foi 
life,  sanctioned  liy  act  of  Parliament,  with  a  provision  for  Mary  if 
she  survives  me.' 


18G  ClIAKLES  LAMB.  [1775-1834. 

It  is  now  six-aiid-tliirty  years  since  I  took  my  seat  at  the  desk. 

Melancholy  was   the  transition  at  fourteen   from   the   abundant 

play-time,  and  the  frequent   intei'veniii"  vacations   of 
Essays  "f  ,       ,     ,  . 

Eliii :  Tiie      sc1k)oI   days,  to   the   eight,    nine,  and   soniL'tiuies   ten 

.■lui'iuaied  hours  a  day  at  a  counting-house.  But  time  partially 
Man.  reconciles  us  to  anything.     I   gradually  became   con- 

tent,—  doggedly  contented,  as  wild  animals  in  cages.  To  dissi- 
pate this  awkward  feeling,  I  have  been  fain  to  go  among  them 
once  or  twice  since  ;  to  visit  my  old  desk-fellows,  my  co-brethren 
of  the  quill,  that  I  had  left  below  me  in  the  state  militant.  Not 
all  the  kindness  with  which  they  received  me  could  quite  restore 
to  me  that  pleasant  familiarity  which  I  had  heretofore  enjoyed 
among  them.  We  cracked  some  of  our  old  jokes,  but  methought 
they  went  off  but  faintly.  My  old  desk,  the  peg  where  I  hung 
my  hat,  were  aj^propriated  to  another.     I  knew  it  must  be,  but 

I  could  not  take  it  kindly.     D 1  take  me,  if  I  did   not  feel 

some  remorse  —  beast,  if  I  had  not  ■ —  at  quitting  my  old  conqjeers, 
the  faithful  partners  of  my  toil  for  six-and-thirty  years,  that 
smoothed  for  me,  with  tlieir  jokes  and  conundrums,  the  rugged- 
nes^of  my  professional  road. 

In  1795  and  later,  Lamb  was  lodging  with  his  family  at 
No.  7  Little  Queen  Street,  Holborn  ;  and  here  was  enacted 
that  awful  tragedy,  on  the  22d  of  September,  179G,  which 
clouded  and  saddened  the  life  of  Charles  as  well  as  Mary 
Lamb.  On  the  27th  of  September  Lamb  wrote  to  Cole- 
ridge :  — 

White,  or  some  of  my  friends,  or  the  public  papers,  by  this 
time  may  have  informed  you  of  the  terrible  calamities  that  have 
fallen  on  our  family.  I  will  only  give  yon  the  outlines:  My 
poor,  dear,  dearest  sister,  in  a  tit  of  insanity,  has  been  the  death 
of  our  own  mother.  I  was  at  hand  only  time  enougb  to  snatch 
the  knife  out  of  her  grasp.  She  is  at  jjresent  in  a  madhouse, 
from  whence  I  fear  she  must  be  moved  to  a  hospital.  God  has 
preserved  me  to  my  senses,  —  I  eat  and  drink  and  sleep,  and  have 
my  judgment,  I  believe,  very  sound.  My  poor  father  was  slightly 
wounded,  and  I  am  left  to  take  care  of  him  and  my  aunt. 


CHARLES    LAMB. 


1775-1834.]  CHARLES  LAMB.  187 

On  the  3d  of  October  of  the  same  year  he  wrote  again  to 
Coleridge :  — 

It  will  be  a  comfort  to  you,  I  know,  to  know  that  our  pros- 
pects are  somewhat  brighter.  My  poor,  dear,  dearest  sister,  the 
unhappy  and  unconscious  instrument  of  the  Almighty's  judgment 
on  our  house,  is  restored  to  her  senses  ;  to  a  dreadful  sense 
and  recollection  of  what  has  past.  .  .  .  On  that  first  evening  my 
aunt  was  lying  insensible,  to  all  appearance  like  one  dying  — 
my  father  with  his  poor  forehead  plastered  over,  from  a  wound 
he  had  received  from  a  daughter  dearly  loved  by  him,  and  wiio 
loved  him  no  less  dearly  —  my  mother,  a  dead  and  murdered 
corpse  in  the  next  room  —  yet  was  I  wonderfully  supported. 

Holy  Trinity  Church,  in  Little  Queen  Street,  facing  Gate 
Street,  was  built  upon  the  site  of  Lamb's  house  ;  and  behind 
it,  in  the  playground  of  the  church  school,  was,  in  1885,  a 
tree  standing  in  what  had  undoubtedly  been  Lamb's  back 
garden. 

Lamb,  wldle  living  in  Little  Queen  Street,  frequented  the 
Feathers,  a  public  house  in  Hand  Court,  Holboj-n,  the  old 
sign  of  which  was  still,  in  188.5,  over  the  archway  that  leads 
into  the  Court  (No.  58  Holborn)  ;  and  the  tavern  itself,  one 
of  the  most  curious  of  the  old-fashioned  inns  to  be  found  in 
that  part  of  London,  was  as  Lamb  left  it.  The  windows 
probably  had  not  been  washed  since  Lamb's  time. 

Another  old  inn  with  which  he  was  familiar  in  those  days 
was  the  Salutation  and  Cat,  No.  17  Newgate  Street,  near 
Ivy  Lane.  Here  Southey  and  Coleridge  wei'e  often  to  be 
found  with  him  (see  Coleridge,  p.  60).  In  later  years  he 
wrote  to  Coleridge  :  — 

I  imagine  to  myself  the  little  smoky  i-oom  at  the  Salutation 
and  Cat,  where  we  have  sat  together  through  the  winter  nights 
be^uilinLf  the  cares  of  life  with  Poesv. 

After  the  tragedy  the  Lambs  went  to  Pentonville,  living 
at   Xo.  45  Cha^iel   Street. 


188  CHARLES   LAMB.  [1775-1834. 

Also,  in  sifting  the  letters  for  facts  and  dates,  I  tind  that  Lamb 

liv(Hl  in  Chapel   Street,  Pentonville,  not  as  Talfourd  and  Procter 

thought  a  few   months,   but    three    years,   removing' 

Anne  °  •/  ^  r> 

Gilchrist's  thither  almost  immediately  after  the  mother's  death. 
PretLe?^"'  '  It  is  a  trifle,  yet  not  without  interest  to  the  lovers  of 
Lamb  ;  for  these  were  the  years  in  which  he  met  in  his 
daily  walks,  and  loved  l)ut  never  accosted,  the  beautiful  Quakeress 
'  Hester,'  whose  memory  is  enshrined  in  the  poem  beginning, 
'  When  maidens  such  as  Hester  die.' 

'No.  45  Chapel  Street  in  188-5  was  the  Agricultural  Hotel, 
on  the  northwest  corner  of  Liverpool  Road,  and  almost  the 
only  house  in  the  miserable,  dull,  uninteresting  street,  that 
seems  to  have  been  rebuilt  during  the  present  century.  At 
the  time  the  Lambs  lived  there.  Chapel  Street  was  out  of 
town,  and  surrounded  by  gardens  and  green  fields. 

Lamb  was  back  in  his  beloved  Temple  in  1800. 

I  live  at  No.  16  Mitre  Court  Buildings,  a  pistol-shot  off"  Baron 
Maseres.  .  .  .   He  lives  on  the  ground  floor  for  convenience  of  the 

gout  ;  I  prefer  the  attic  story  for  the  air  !  He  keeps 
ilfe*oT  ^  three  footmen  and  two  maids  ;  I  have  neither  maid  nor 
^h'"?''vi         laundress.  .  .  .  N.  B.     When  you  come   to   see   me, 

mount  up  to  the  top  of  the  stairs  —  I  hope  you  are  not 
asthmatical  —  and  come  in  flannel,  for  it  is  pure  airy  up  there. 
And  bring  your  glass,  and  I  will  show  you  the  Surrey  Hills.  My 
bed  faces  the  river,  so  as  by  perking  upon  my  haunches,  and  sup- 
porting my  carcass  with  my  elbows,  without  much  wrying  my 
neck,  I  can  see  the  white  sails  glide  by  the  bottom  of  King's 
Bench  Walk,  as  I  lie  in  my  bed. 

The  present  Mitre  Court  Buildings  bear  date  1830. 
In  1809  Lamb  writes  to  Manning  :  — 

While  1  think  of  it,  let  me  tell  you   we  are    moved.     Don't 

come  any  more  to  Mitre  Court  Buildings.     We  are  at 

IfkoT^'^      34  Southampton  BniUliugs'''  [in  a  house  still  standing 

Lamb,  jj^    1885],   Chancery  Lane  [see  Hazlitt,  p.  133],  and 

shall  be  here  until  about  the  end  of  May,  when   we 


1775-1834.]  CHARLES  LAMB.  189 

remove  to  No.  4  Inner  Temple  Lane,  where  I  mean  to  live  and  die. 
.  .  .  Our  place  of  final  destination  —  I  don't  mean  the  grave,  but 
No.  4  Inner  Temple  Lane  —  looks  out  upon  a  gloomy  churchyard- 
like court,  called  Hare  Court,  with  three  trees  and  a  pump  in  it. 
Do  you  know  it  ?  I  was  born  near  it,  and  used  to  drink  at  that 
pump  when  I  was  a  Rechabite  of  six  years  old. 

In  1810,  still  writing  to  Manning,  he  describes  these 
chambers  :  — 

I  have  two  sitting-rooms  :  I  call  them  so  par  excellence,  for  you 
may  stand,  or  loll,  or  lean,  or  try  any  posture  in  them,  but  they 
are  best  for  sitting  ;  not  squatting  down  .Japanese  fashion,  but 
the  more  decorous  mode  which  European  usage  has  consecrated. 
I  have  two  of  these  rooms  on  the  third  floor,  and  five  sleeping, 
cooking,  etc.  rooms  on  the  fourth  floor.  In  my  best  room  is  a 
choice  collection  of  the  works  of  Hogarth,  an  English  painter  of 
some  humor.  In  my  next  best  are  shelves  containing  a  small  but 
well-chosen  library.  My  best  room  commands  a  court,  in  which 
there  are  trees  and  a  pump,  the  water  of  which  is  excellent  cold 
with  brandy,  and  not  very  insipid  without. 

The  house  has  been  replaced  by  the  modern  Johnson's 
Buildings,  but  the  trees  and  the  court  and  the  pump  are 
still  there. 

The  Lambs  left  the  Temple  in  the  autumn  of  1817,  and 
took  lodgings,  as  he  describes  them  in  a  letter  to  Haydon, 
dated  in  December  of  that  year,  '  at  No.  20  Russell  Court, 
Covent  Garden  East ;  half-way  up,  next  the  corner,  left-hand 
side,"  and,  as  he  writes  to  another  friend,  '  in  tlie  corner 
hoiise  delightfully  situated  between  the  two  theatres.' 

Russell  Court,  running  from  Drury  Lane  to  Brydges  Street, 
does  not  answer  this  description  ;  while  No.  20  Russell 
Street,  next  to  the  corner  of  Bow  Street,  is  '  on  the  left-hand 
side,'  and  '  between  the  two  theatres.'  This  was  classic 
ground,  the  site  of  Will's  Coffee  House  (see  Addison,  p.  7) ; 
and  it  seems  strange  that  Lamb  should  not  have  known  this 
fact,  or,  if  he  did,  should  not  have  mentioned  it  in  any  of 


190  CHAKLES   LA. MB.  [1775-1834. 

his    letters.      Ju  November  of   1817   Lamb    wrote    to    Miss 
Wordsworth  :  — 

Here  avc  are,  transplanted  I'mni  uur  native  soil.     I  thought  we 

never  could  have  been  torn  up  from  the  Temple.     Indeed,  it  was 

an  ugly  wrench,  but  like  a  tooth,  now  't  is  out,  and  I 

Ufe'o*/  **      ^^^  ^^^y  '     ^^'^  never  can  strike  ruot  so  deep  in  any 

Lamb,  other  {!;round.  .  .  .  We  are  in  the  individual  spot  we 

chap.  X.  °  ^ 

like  best,  in  all  this  great  city.  The  theatres  with  all 
their  noises ;  Covent  Garden,  dearer  to  me  than  any  gardens  of  Alci- 
noiis,  where  we  are  morally  sure  of  the  earliest  peas  and  '.>^par- 
agus  ;  Bow  Street,  where  the  thieves  are  examined,  within  a  few 
yards  of  us  :  Mary  had  not  been  here  fuur-and-twenty  hours 
before  she  saw  a  thief  She  sits  at  the  window  working,  and, 
casually  throwing  out  her  eyes,  she  sees  a  concourse  of  people 
coming  this  way,  with  a  constable  to  conduct  the  st)lemnity. 
These  little  incidents  agi'eeably  diversify  a  female  life. 

Lamb,  for  the  first  time,  lived  in  an  entire  house  of  his 
own  in  182-3,  of  which  he  wrote  to  Bernard  Barton  ou  the 
2d  of  September  :  — 

When  you  come  Londonward  you  will  find  me  no  longer  in 
Covent  Garden  ;  I  have  a  cottage  in  Colebrook  [properly  Coin- 
brook]  Row,  Islington  ;  a  cottage,  for  it  is  detached  ;  a 
Life  of  white  house    with  six  good  rooms  ;    the   New   River 

ciuip. 'xiii.  (rather  elderly  by  this  time)  runs  (if  a  moderate 
walking-pace  can  be  so  termed)  close  to  the  foot  of  the 
house  ;  and  behind  is  a  spacious  garden  witli  vines  (I  assure  you), 
pears,  strawberries,  parsnips,  leek,  carrots,  cabbages,  to  delight  the 
heart  of  old  Alcinoiis.  You  enter,  without  i)assagc,  into  a  cheerful 
dining-room,  all  studded  over  and  rough,  with  old  books  ;  and 
above  is  a  lightsome  drawing-room,  three  windows  full  of  choice 
prints.  I  feel  like  a  great  lord,  never  having  had  a  house 
before. 

'  I  am  in  Colebrook  Cottage,  Colebrook  Eow,  Islington,'  lie 
wrote  to  Southe}',  '  close  to  the  New  River  end  of  Colebrook 
Terrace,  left  hand  from  Sadlers  Wells.' 


1775-1834.]  CHARLES   LAMB.  191 

This  little  three-storied  house,  numbered  19,  was  still 
standing  in  1885.  The  sitting-room  window  had  been 
altered,  but  nothing  else.  It  is  named  Elia  Cottage,  and 
in  its  gardens  a  factory  has  been  built.  The  New  River 
still  glides  slowly  by  its  door,  but  no  longer  is  in  sight,  and 
no  half-blind  George  Dyer  could  walk  into  it  to-da}'.  En- 
closed within  brick  walls,  and  covered  by  a  strip  of  green 
grass,  it  appears  at  intervals  on  its  way  to  town,  but  not  in 
this  portion  of  Colebrook  Row. 

During  the  later  years  of  Lamb's  life,  when  he  had  occa- 
sion to  spend  a  night  in  town,  he  lodged  with  Mrs.  Buffam, 
at  Xo.  24  Southampton  Buildings,  Cliancery  Lane,  in  a  very 
curious  stuccoed  house,  with  a  sloping  tiled  roof,  unlike  any 
other  house  in  that  vicinity.  It  stood  unchanged  in  1885. 
Hazlitt  was  his  neighbor  here. 

In  1829  the  Lambs  removed  to  Enfield,  to  'an  odd-looking 
ffambogish-colored  house  at  the  Chase  side.' 

The  situation  was  far  from  picturesque;  for  the  opposite  side 
of  the  road  only  presented  some  middling  tenements,  Taifourd's 
two  dissenting  chapels,  and  a  public  house  decorated  f'*^^,°^ 
with  a  swinging  sign  of  a  Rising  Sun.  chap.  xvii. 

In  1885  the  odd-looking  gambogish  house  on  the  Chase 
side  had  been  completely  transformed  and  enlarged.  It 
stood  on  the  east  side  of  the  road,  and  was  '  The  Manse ' 
(so  marked  on  its  gate-posts)  of  Christ's  Church  opposite, 
which  was  built  upon  the  site  of  one  of  the  two  dissenting 
chapels.  The  middling  tenements  were  called  Gloucester 
Place,  and  bore  date  1823.  They  still  foced  the  strip  of 
green  that  separated  them  from  the  Lambs'  cottage.  Sar- 
geant  Talfourd  has  confounded  the  Rising  Sun  public 
house,  which  is  some  distance  Londonwards,  with  the  Crown 
and  Horse-Shoes  in  Lamb's  more  immediate  neighborhood. 
Both  houses  have  swinging  signs ;  and  in  both,  probably, 
18 


192  CHARLES   LAMB.  [1775-1834. 

Lamb  passed  many  a  pleasant  hour.  After  leaving  here, 
the  Lambs  lodged  for  a  time  at  an  ivy-covered  house 
adjoining  the  Manse  on  the  north.  While  Lamb  is  not 
personally  remembered  at  Enfield,  old  inhabitants,  in  1885, 
who  knew  his  landlady,  a  Mrs.  Westwood,  still  repeated  the 
stories  she  told  of  her  odd  lodgers ;  and  from  some  of  them 
was  derived  the  information  which  led  to  this  identification 
of  the  houses. 

In  1832  the  Lambs  took  possession  of  a  little  cottage  at 
Edmonton,  where,  on  the  27th  of  December,  1834,  Charles 
died.  This  house  —  Bay  Cottage,  but  since  called  Lamb's 
Cottage  —  still  stood,  in  1885,  next  door  to  Lion  House,  on 
the  north  side  of  Church  Street,  Edmonton,  about  half-way 
between  the  church  and  the  railway  station,  —  a  small  and 
unpretending  dwelling,  lying  back  from  the  street,  and  but  a 
few  doors  from  the  Jolly  Farmer,  an  old  tavern  with  which 
Charles  was  no  doubt  familiar.  The  Bell  Tavern,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  hamlet,  in  Fore  Street,  corner  of  Gilpin 
Grove,  no  longer  exists.  On  its  site  is  a  modern  brick 
building  called  Gilpin's  Bell,  because  of  its  association  with 
John  Gilpin's  famous  ride.  To  this  corner  Lamb,  according 
to  tradition,  was  wont  to  escort  his  friends  on  their  way 
back  to  London.  While  the  original  Bell  has  disappeared, 
the  old  Horse  and  Groom  and  the  Golden  Fleece,  almost 
adjoining  it,  still  remain  in  all  their  ancient  picturesque  state  ; 
and  it  is  hardly  possible  that  Lamb  and  his  companions  in- 
variably passed  their  doors  without  entering  them,  although 
no  record  is  preserved  of  his  frequenting  any  but  the  Bell. 
He  was  on  his  way  to  this  tavern  when  he  fell  and  received 
the  slight  injury  to  his  face  which  hastened  his  death. 

Lamb  was  buried  in  the  quiet  little  churchyard  at  Ed- 
monton. A  tall  flat  stone,  with  an  inscription  by  Gary, 
the  translator  of  Dante,  which  is  neither  happy  nor  quite 
coherent,  marks   the  spot,   which  is  just  Iteyond  the  path 


1775-1834.]  CHARLES   LAMB.  193 

on  the  southwest  of  the  church.  Mary  Lamb,  who  survived 
her  brother  a  number  of  years,  died  in  Alpha  Eoad,  St. 
John's  Wood,  and  was  buried  in  his  grave  on  the  28th  of 
May,   1847.   . 

Talfourd,  in  writing  to  Henry  Crabb  Robinson,  December 
31,  1834,  says  :  — 

I  dou1)t   whether   Mary   Lamb  will   ever  be  quite  Diary  of 

''  ^  Henry 

herself  again,  so  as  to  i'eel  her  loss  with  her  natural  Crabb 
sensibility.     She    went    with   Ryle   yesterday  to   the  vol.'ii.''    ' 
churchyard,  and  pointed  out  a  place  where  her  brother  '■^^^^^-  ^'• 
had  expressed  a  wish  to  be  buried  ;  and  the  wish  will  be  fulfilled. 

Eobinsou  was  one  of  the  few  friends  of  the  Lambs  who 
remembered  Mary  after  the  death  of  Charles.  There  are 
in  his  Diary  accounts  of  repeated  visits  to  her  in  her 
loneliness ;  and  when  her  time  came  he  saw  her  laid  by 
her  brother's  side. 

May   29,  1847.  —  Yesterday  was   a   painfully   interesting  day. 

I  attended  the  funeral  of  Mary  Lamb.     At  nine  a  coach  fetched 

me.     We  drove  to  her  dwelling  at  St.  John's  Wood, 

I  •    1      1       1     1       i      Diary  of 

irom  whence  two  coaches   accompanied  tne   body  to  Hemy 

Edmonton  across  a  pretty  country,  but  the  heat  of  the  Ro\,i,ison 

day  rendered  the  drive  i)i)pressive.     We  took  refresh-  ^oi-  "•    . 
''  ^  ^  .  chap  XXI. 

ment  at  the  house  where  dear  Charles  Lamb  died, 
and  were  then  driven  towards  our  homes.  .  .  .  There  was  no  sad- 
ness assumed  by  the  atteiidants,  but  we  all  talked  together  with 
warm  affection  of  dear  Mary  Lamb,  and  that  most  delightful  of 
creatirres,  her  brother  Charles  ;  of  all  the  men  of  genius  I  ever 
knew,  the  one  the  most  intensely  and  universally  to  be  loved. 


194  WALTER   SAVAGE   LANDOR.  [1775-1864 


LETITIA   E.   LANDON. 

1802-1838. 

'  T  E.  L.'  was  boru  at  No.  25  Hans  Place,  Sloane  Street, 
-*— '•  in  a  house  destroyed  some  years  ago;  and  received 
her  early  education  at  No.  22  Hans  Place,  a  few  doors 
beyond,  in  a  house  only  taken  down  in  the  winter  of  1884 
(see  Miss  Mitford). 

In  1809  the  family  removed  to  Trevor  Park,  East  Barnct, 
where  the  happy  days  of  her  childhood  were  spent.  In 
1815  the  Landous  were  living  in  Lewis  Place,  Hammersmith 
Itoad,  Fulham,  and  tlie  next  year  at  Brompton.  Miss 
Landon  was  frequently  an  inmate  of  her  grandmother's 
house  in  Sloane  Street  during  her  youth.  In  1836  she 
went  into  lodgings  at  No.  28  Upper  Berkeley  Street,  corner  of 
Seymour  Place,  Connaught  Square  ;  and  here  she  remained 
until  her  marriage  in  1838  at  St.  Mary's  Chui'ch,  Wyndham 
Place,  Bryanston  Squai'e,  whore  Sir  Edward  Bulwer  Lyttou 
gave  the  bride  away. 

She  died  in  Africa  in  the  same  year. 


WALTER  SAVAGE   LANDOR. 

1775-1864. 

T  ANDOR  was  in  no  respect  a  Londoner.  He  made 
"^^  frequent  visits  to  town,  but  was  never  here  for  any 
length  of  time.  One  of  the  earliest  signs  of  his  appearance 
in    London    is  a  letter  of  his,   dated   \[m\  12,   1795,  from 


i-i^/^g^^ 


WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR. 


1650-1692.]  NATHANIEL   LEE.  195 

No.  38  Beaumont  Street,  Marylebone,  on  the  west  side,  and 
written  shortly  after  his  rustication  from  Oxford.  In  1801 
his  address  was  at  '  E.  Brown's,  Esq.,  No.  10  Boswell  Court, 
Carey  Street.'  Boswell  Court  ran  from  Carey  Street  to  the 
back  of  St.  Clement's  Church.  It  disappeared  on  the  con- 
struction of  the  New  Law  Courts. 

Landor  went  to  Italy  in  1815,  and  London  saw  but  little 
of  him  after  that,  except  ou  his  annual  visits,  during  the 
later  years  of  his  life,  to  Gore  House  '  when  the  lilacs  were 
in  bloom.'  Gore  House,  the  residence  of  Lady  Blessington, 
and  so  famous  in  its  day,  has  disappeared.  It  stood  very 
near,  if  not  exactly  on,  the  site  of  the  Royal  Albert  Hall, 
Kensington  Gore. 


NATHANIEL   LEE. 

Circa  1650-1692. 

IVJAT  LEE  was  at  Westminster  School  (see  Churchill, 
^  p.  .51)  until  1GG8,  when  he  entered  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge.  He  made  his  first  appearance  as  an  actor  in 
1672,  as  Duncan  in  'Macbeth,'  at  the  Duke's  Theatre,  Lin- 
coln's Inn  Fields  (see  Davenant,  p.  74)  ;  but  although,  as 
Cibber  says,  he  was  so  pathetic  a  reader  of  the  scenes  he 
had  written  himself  that  he  moved-  old  actors  to  tears,  he 
failed  ignominiously  as  a  player,  and  quitted  the  stage  in 
despair.  In  1684  he  was  'sent  to  Bedlam,'  where  he  was 
confined  for  four  years.  Bedlam,  which  is  a  cockney  con- 
traction for  Bethlehem  Hospital,  stood,  according  to  Stow, 
'  in  Bishop's  Gate  Wai-d  without  the  City  wall,  between  Bish- 
opsgate  Street  and  Moorfields  .  .  .  against  London  Wall  on 
the  south  side  of  the   Lower   Quarters  of  Moorfields.'     Its 


196  NATHANIEL   LEE.  [1650-1692. 

exact  site  was  on  the  north  side  of  London  Wall,  extending 
from  the  present  Finsbury  Pavement  to  the  present  Jjloom- 
field  Street,  and  it  Lacked  on  the  present  Finsbury  Circus. 
It  remained  until  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
when  it  was  removed  to  Lambeth. 

Drj'den  wrote  as  follows  to  Dennis  :  — 

I  remember  poor  Nat  Lee,  who  was  then  upon  the  very  verge  of 

J.  j^^^^  ..        madness,  yet  made  a  sober  and  a  witty  answer  to  a  bad 

Diycien,         poet  who  told  him  it  was  an  easie  thing  to  write  like  a 

madman.     'No,'  said  he,  'it  is  very  difficult  to  write 

like  a  madman,  but  it  is  a  A^ery  easie  matter  to  write  like  a  fool.' 

Lee  died  in  lG92j  and  his  death,  and  the  cause  of  it, 
is  thus  described  in  the  manuscript  notes  of  William 
Oldys,  the  antiquary  quoted  by  Baker  in  his  '  Biographia 
Dramatica  : '  — 

Returning  one  night  from  the  Bear  and  Harrow  in  Butcher 
Row,  through  Clare  Market  to  his  lodgings  in  Duke  Street 
[Lincoln's  Inn  Fields],  overladen  with  wine,  Lee  fell  down  on  the 
ground  as  some  say,  according  to  others  on  a  bulk,  and  was  killed 
or  stifled  in  the  snow.  He  was  buried  in  the  parish  church  of 
St.  Clement  Danes  ;  aged  about  thirty-five  years. 

As  he  is  known  to  have  entered  college  in  1668,  he  must 
have  been  older  than  thirty-five  when  he  died  twenty-four 
years  later.  No  trace  of  his  grave  remains  in  St.  Clement 
Danes ;  and  Butcher  Row,  afterwards  called  Pickett  Street, 
in  which  stood  the  Bear  and  Harrow,  was  wiped  out  of 
existence  some  years  ago,  and  the  New  Law  Courts  stand  on 
its  site.  It  was  a  very  narrow  street,  running  from  Ship 
Yard  to  Holywell  Street,  by  the  side  of  St.  Clement's 
Church. 


16^2-1704.]  JOHN   LOCKE.  197 


JOHN   LOCKE. 

1632-1704. 

T  OCKE  was  sent  in  164G  to  Westminster  School  (see 
-■-^  Churchill,  p.  51),  where  he  was  a  pupil,  with  Dry- 
den,  under  Dr.  Busby,  and  where  he  remained  five  or  six 
years.  He  spent  much  time  in  Oxford  and  on  the  Conti- 
nent ;  but  in  1667  he  took  up  his  residence  in  London  in  the 
family  of  Lord  Shaftesbury,  then  Lord  Ashley,  who  lived  in 
Essex  House,  formerly  Exeter  House,  on  the  Strand.  Its 
site  is  now  marked  by  Essex  Street ;  and  the  gate  with  the 
staircase  to  the  water,  at  the  end  of  the  street,  is  the  only 
portion  of  the  old  building  that  remains.  In  1683  Locke 
requested  that  letters  for  him  be  '  left  with  Mr.  Percivall  at 
the  Black  Boy  in  Lombard  Street,  or  with  Mi\  S.  Cox  at  the 
Iron  Key  in  Thames  Street.' 

Both  of  these  signs  had  disappeared  before  houses  in  Lon- 
don were  numbered,  and  it  is  not  possible  to  identify  their 
site. 

Locke  wrote  portions  of  his  '  Essay  on  the  Human  Un- 
derstanding '  at  Shaftesbury's  country  house  at  Chelsea,  on 
the  site  of  which  the  Workhouse  belonging  to  St.  George's, 
Hanover  Square,  was  built.  In  the  gardens  of  this  institu- 
tion, on  the  south  side  of  Fulham  Road,  near  the  upper 
boundary  of  Chelsea  Parish,  an  old  yew-tree,  said  to  have 
been  a  favorite  of  Locke's,  stood  until  1883,  when  it  was 
taken  down.  The  dedication  to  the  Essay  was  dated  from 
Dorset  Court,  on  the  east  side  of  Cannon  Row,  or  Channel 
Row,  Westminster,  which  has  since  disappeared,  although 
Cunningham  in  his  '  Hand-Book'  believes  the  Dorset  Court 
to  have  been  that  in  Fleet  Street ;  and  it  was  first  '  printed 


198  UlCHAHl)   J.OVKLACE.  [1618-1658. 

by  Eliz.  Holt  for  Thomas  Basset,  at  the  George  in  Fleet 
Street,  near  St.  Dunstan's  Church,'  in  IGOO.  He  received 
thirty  pounds  for  the  copyright.  Dorset  Court,  Fleet  Street, 
was  once  the  name  of  the  present  Salisbury  Square. 

A  letter  of  Locke's  was  dated  in  1G94  '  Over  against  the 
Plow  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.'  A  Plough  Tavern  stood  in 
Plough  Court,  Carey  Street,  opposite  Serle  Street,  until 
the  New  Law  Buildings  wiped  it  out,  with  many  other  old 
passages  and  courts,  and  was  the  only  tavern  of  that  name 
in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  in 
Locke's  time. 

Locke  died  in  retirement,  ten  years  later,  in  Otis  Manor 
House,  —  no  longer  standing,  —  at  High  Laver,  Essex,  and 
was  buried  in  a  vault  near  the  south  porch  of  High  Laver 
Church,  where  there  are  an  altar  tomb  and  a  tablet  to  his 
memory. 


EICHARD   LOVELACE. 

1618-1658. 

T  OVELACE,  who  was,  according  to  Wood,  '  the  most 
^^  amiable  and  beautiful  person  that  eye  ever  beheld,' 
and  who  in  his  prime  was  'much  admired  and  adored  by  the 
female  sex,'  received  the  rudiments  of  his  education  at  the 
(Charter  House  (see  Addison,  p.  1),  and  left  it  for  Oxford 
in  1634.  He  saw  but  little  of  London  until  his  later  years. 
In  1648  he  was  confined  in  the  Gate  House  at  West- 
minster (see  Burke,  p.  27),  wdiere  he  wrote  the  poem  'To 
Althea  from  Prison,'  containing  the  well-known  lines  upon 
which  much  of  his  fame  now  rests, — 

'Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 
Nor  iron  bars  a  caM.' 


RICHARD    LOVELACE. 


1797-1868.]  SAMUEL  LOVEK.  199 

After  his  release  he  dragged  out  a  miserable  existence  in 
London,  and  died  in  1658. 

Having   consumed   idl   his   estate,   he  grew   very   melancholy 
(which   at  length  brought  him  into  a  consumption), 
became  very  poor  in  body  and  purse,  wiis  the  object  of  wood's" 
charity,  went  in  ragged  cloaths  (whereas  when  he  was  ^^^f,l^j^ses. 
in  his  glory  he  wore  cloth  of  gold   and   silver),  and 
mostly  lodged   in  obscure  and   dirty  places   more   befitting   the 
worst  of  beggars  and  poorest  of  servants. 

He  is  believed  to  have  died  in  Gunpowder  Alley,  near 
Shoe  Lane,  which  has  been  entirely  rebuilt. 

Aubrey  says  that   Lovelace's  death   took  place  in  a  cellar  in 
Long  Acre,  and   adds  :  '  Mr.  Edm.  Wylde,    etc.,  had 
made   a  collection   for  him   and   given  him  money.'  Hunt's 
But  Aubrey's  authority  is  not  valued  against  Wood's.  T'le  Town, 
He  IS  to  be  read  like  a  proper  gossip,  whose  accounts 
we   may  pretty  safely  reject  or  believe  as  it  suits  other  testimony. 

Lovelace  was  buried  in  St.  Bride's  Church,  Fleet  Street, 
'  at  the  west  end  of  the  church  ; '  but  the  building  was  de- 
stroyed in  the  Great  Fire  of  1666.  The  present  St.  Bride's 
was  built  by  Wren,  and  contains  no  memorial  to  the  poet. 


SAMUEL  LOVER. 

1797-1868. 

T  OVER  came  first  to  London  in  1834,  when  he  lived  in 
-^  the  neighborhood  of  Regent's  Park,  and  later  in  Charles 
Street,  Berners  Street,  which  was  then  that  part  of  the 
street  afterwards  called  Mortimer  Street,  which  fronts  the 
Middlesex  Hospital. 


200  THOMAS   BABINGTON   MACAULAY.      [1800-1859. 

After  his  long  American  tour  (1846-1848)  and  return  to 
England,  he  settled  in  the  more  remote  suburbs  of  Ealing, 
Barnes,  and  Sevcnoaks  ;  but  he  died  in  St.  Heliers.  and  was 
buried  in  Keusal  Green. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  (Jarrick  Club  (see  Tiiackkray). 


THOMAS   BABIXGTON   MACAULAY. 

1800-1859. 

]y /TACAULAY  was  carried  to  London  in  his  infancy,  and 
spent  two  years  with  his  parents  in  Birchin  Lane, 
Cornhill,  where  still  remained  in  1885  a  few  old  houses, 
no  doubt  standing  there  in  the  beginning  of  the  century, 
and  as  familiar  to  the  future  historian  as  to  the  merchants 
and  merchants'  clerks  who  occupy  them  and  pass  by  them 
at  the  present  day.  Tn  one  of  these  — ■■  which  one  is  not 
now  known  —  Macaulay's  infancy  was  spent.  He  was  car- 
ried daily  along  Cornhill  and  Threadneedle  Street  to  get  the 
air  and  sunshine  in  the  Drapers'  Garden,  which,  greatly 
reduced  in  size,  lies  at  the  back  of  Drapers'  Hall,  and  is 
approached  by  Throgmorton  Avenue,  a  pi-ivate  passage  from 
Throgmorton  Sti-eet  to  London  Wall.  Tn  1885  it  was  a 
bright  oasis  in  the  desert  of  brick  and  mortar  ;  and  as  long 
as  Macaulay  lived,  it  was  one  of  his  favorite  haunts  (see 
Grotb,  p.  130).  When  Macaiday  was  a  lad  his  father  moved 
to  Clapham,  High  Street,  and  took  a  house  which  was 
described  '  as  roomy  and  comfortable,  with  a  very  small 
garden  behind,  and  in  front  a  very  small  one  indeed.'  Here 
his  happy  childhood  was  spent.  This  house,  No.  5,  The 
Pavement,  High  Street,  Clapham,  was  still  standing  in  1885, 
It  faced  the  Common,  and  was  the  seventh  house  towards 


SAMUEL    LOVER. 


1800-1859.]      THOMAS  BABINGTON   MAC  AULA  Y.  201 

the  Common  from  the  Plough  lun  (No.  156  High  Street). 
The  very  small  garden  indeed,  about  twenty  feet  square,  had 
been  built  upon,  and  contained  a  one-storied  shop,  occupied 
by  a  fishmonger.  The  larger  garden  in  the  rear  and  the 
unpretending  house  itself  remained  unchanged. 

February  9.  —  I  was  talking  to  Stephen  yesterday  about 
Brougham  and    Macaulay.     He   said   he  had  known  „,     „ 

^  ,  .  11,  The  Greville 

,  Brou2;hani  above   thirty  veais,  and   well   remembers  Memoirs, 

.  '     "  .  .  1836 

walking  with  him  down  to  Clapham,  to  dine  with  old 
Zachary  Macaulay,  and  telling  him  he  would  find  a  prodig)"  of 
a   boy   there^  of   whom  he   must  take  notice.     This   was   Tom 
Macaulay. 

Macaulay  went  to  school  at  Clapham  for  a  time;  but 
when,  in  1818,  the  family  left  Clapham  for  London,  he  lived 
with  his  father  in  Cadogan  Place,  Sloane  Street,  and  later, 
in  1823,  in  Great  Ormond  Street. 

It  was  a  large,  rambling  house  at  the  comer  of  Lewis  Place 
[and  Great  Ormond  Street],  and  was  said  to  have  been  ^^^^^^^  ,^ 
the  residence  of  Lord  Chancellor  Thurlow,  at  the  time  Life  and 
when  the  great  seal  was  stolen  from  his  custody.     It  If^^^^^J^^;  ^ 
now  [1876]  forms  the  east  wing  of  a  homoeopathic 
hospital. 

Here  he  wrote  the  Essay  on  Milton,  etc.      It  was  still  a 
hospital  in   1885. 

In   August,  1857,  he  [Macaulay]  writes  :  '  I  sent  the  carriage 
home,    and   walked  to    the    Museum;    passing    through    Great 
Ormond   Street,  I  saw  a  bill  on  No.  50.     I  knocked,  ^^^^.^^^ 
was  let  in,  and  went  over  the  house  with  a  strange  History  of 
'  mixture  of  feelings.     It  is  more  than  twenty-six  years  n°chap-  x"  ' 


XX. 


since  I  was  in  it.  The  dining-room  and  the  adjoining 
room  in  which  I  once  slept  are  scarcely  changed;  the  same 
coloring  on  the  wall,  but  more  dingy.  My  father's  study  much 
the  same  ;  the  drawing-rooms  too,  except  the  papering  ;  my 
bedroom  just  what  it  was.  My  mother's  belilroom  —  I  had  never 
been  in  it  since  her  death.  I  went  away  sad.' 
19 


202  THOMAS   BABINGTON  MACAULAY.       [1800-1859. 

Between  1829  and  1834  Macaulay  occnpied  chambers  at 
No.  8  South  Square,  Gray's  Inn,  m  a  building  that  has  since 
been  torn  down  to  make  way  for  the  extension  of  the 
Library. 

Macaulay  went  to  India  in  1834,  but  returned  to  England 
in  1838,  when  he  lodged  for  a  time  at  No.  3  Charges  Street, 
Piccadilly,  in  a  house  still  standing  in  1885,  and  where  he 
wrote,  among  other  things,  the  paper  on  Clive.  lie  was 
for  a  time  in  Great  George  Street,  Westminster,  and  in 
1840  — 

quartered  himself  in  a  commodious  set  of  rooms  on  the  second 
floor  in  the  Albany  [see  Byron,  p.  32].  .  .  .  His  chambers,  every 
corner  of  which  was  a  library,  were  comfortably, 
Letters,  vol.  though  not  very  brightly,  furnished.  The  ornaments 
u.  c  ap.  IX.     .^gj.g  JQ^^  ijy^;  choice. 

In  one  of  his  letters  he  describes  his  surroundings  as 
follows  :  — 

I  have  taken  a  comfortable  suite  of  chambers  in  the  Albany, 

and  I   hope  to  lead  during  some  years  a  sort  of  life 
Life  and  ^  . 

Letter.s,  vol.  peculiar  to  my  taste,  —  college  life  at  the  West  End  of 
11.  e  lap.  I .  j^(jj-,jj^j-j  J  have  an  entrance  hall,  two  sitting-rooms, 
a  bedroom,  a  kitchen,  cellars,  and  two  rooms  for  servants,  all  for 
ninety  guineas  a  year. 

His  chambers  in  the  Albany  were  numbered  E.  1.  Here 
he  wrote  the  Essays  on  Bacon,  Hastings,  and  Addison,  the 
'  History  of  England,'  and  published  the  '  Lays,'  some  of 
which  had  been  written  before. 

In  1856  he  left  the  Albany  for  Kensington,  and  hired  the 
house  in  which  the  rest  of  his  life  was  spent. 

Holly   Lodge,  now   [1876]  called   Airlie   Lodge,  occupies   the 

most  secluded  corner  of  the  little  labyrinth  of  by-roads,  which, 

bounded   to  the   east   by  Palace  Gardens  and  to  the 
Life  and  ,       i^  n       i  tt 

Letters,  vol.  west  by  nolland  House,  constitutes  the  district  known 

iLciap.  XIV.  ^g   Campden   Hill.      The   villa — for   a  villa  it  is  — 


y': 


LOUD    JIACAULAY. 


1800-1859.]      THOMAS  BABINGTON  MACAULAY.  203 

stands  in  a  long  and  winding  lane,  which,  with  its  high  back  pal- 
ing, concealing  from  the  passer-by  everything  except  tbe  mass  of 
dense  and  varied  foliage,  presents  au  appearance  as  rural  as 
Streathani  presented  twenty  years  ago.  The  only  entrance  for 
carriages  was  at  the  end  of  the  lane  farthest  from  Holly  Lodge  ; 
and  Macaulay  had  no  one  living  beyond  him  except  the  Duke  of 
Argyll. 

During  his  residence  in  Kensington  Macaulay  was  a  regu- 
lar attendant  at  the  old  Churcli  of  St.  Alary  there  (see  the 
elder  Colman,  p.  62). 

He  died  at  Holly  Lodge  on  the  28th  of  December,  1859. 
His  attending  physician,  Dr.  Thomas  Joyce,  of  No.  2  Pem- 
bridge  Villas,  Bayswater,  iu  a  private  note  dated  September 
27,  1883,  says  :  — 

I  have  much  pleasure  in  giving  you  any  information  in  my 
power  respecting  Lord  Macaulay.  He  died  in  his  library  at 
Holly  Lodge.  For  some  time  before  he  had  been  in  ill  health 
from  weak  heart.  His  servant,  who  had  left  him  feeling  rather 
better,  found  on  his  return  his  master  fainting  in  his  chair.  I 
was  quickly  sent  for,  got  him  removed  to  his  couch,  where  he 
expired  in  a  few  moments.  None  of  his  family  were  with  him. 
His  sister,  Mrs.  Trevelyan,  arrived  soon  after  his  death,  accompa- 
nied by  her  son,  then  a  very  young  man,  but  now.  I  believe,  the 
Irish  Secretary.  At  the  time  of  his  seizure  Lord  Macaulay  was 
reading  a  number  of  the  '  Cornhill  Magazine,'  then  a  new  publica- 
tion ;  and,  as  far  as  my  memory  serves  me,  he  was  reading 
Thackeray's  '  Adventures  of  Philip.' 

Holly  Lodge  is  still  standing  [1883],  and  is,  I  believe,  unaltered. i* 
You  will  find  it  on  the  top  of  Campden  Hill,  next  the  Duke  of 
Argyll's  [Argyll  Lodge]. 

He  was  buried,  January  9,  1860,  in  the  Abbey. 

We    return    to    the    western    aisle    of    the    south    transept. 
There  lies  the  brilliant  poet  and  historian,  who  per-  j)g,,„ 
haps  of  all  who  have  trod  the  floor  of  the  Abbey,  or  ^^^''"''*^y'^ . 

_  ^  _  ...  .  Westminster 

lie   buried    within  its  precincts,   most  deeply   knew  Abbey, 
and  felt  its  manifold   interests,  and  most  unceasingly 


204  CHRISTOPHER   MARLOWE.  [1563-1593. 

commemorated  them.  Lord  Macaulay  rests  at  the  foot  of  the 
statue  of  Addison,  whose  character  and  genius  none  has  painted 
as  he. 

Macauhxy  was  a  member  of  the  AtheiutHim  Club,  No.  107 
Pall  Mall,  and  of  the  Literary  Club,  founded  by  Johnson 
(see  Goldsmith,  p.  123,  and  Johnson,  p.  1G7),  to  which  he 
was  elected  in  1839.  It  met  then  in  the  Thatched  House 
Tavern,  No.  74  St.  James's  Street,  on  the  site  of  the  Con- 
servative Club. 

Macaulay  was  devoted  to  The  Club,  and  rarely  absent  from  it. 

If  redundant   at   times  in  speech  and  argument,  this 

HollaniVs        could  hardly  be  deemed  a  usurpation,  seeing  how  they 

tions'!)Ta       were  employed.  ...  I  well  remember  the  blank  that 

Past  Life,      ^^.^3  ^^i^  1      ^jg  ^11  at  the  first  meeting  of  The  Club 

ciiap.  vui.  *^ 

after  his  death. 


CHEISTOPHEPv   MAELOWE. 

1563-1593. 

THERE  are  no  records  of  Marlowe's  life  in  London  except 
that  he  was  a  player  at  the  Curtain  Theatre  in  Holy- 
well Lane,  Shoreditch  (see  Joxson,  p.  172),  and  that  he  was 
killed  in  a  disreputable  brawl. 

The  story  of  Marlowe's  death  has  been  differently  related,  but 
it  seems  now  that  he  was  killed  by  his  rival  in  love. 
Come!-'.s        Marlowe   found  his  rival  with  the  lady  to  whom  he 
DrSif     was  attached,  and  rushed  upon  him  ;  but  his  antago- 
Poetry,  ^^^gj;^  being  the  stronger,  thrust  the  point  of  Marlowe's 

Marlowe.  own  dagger  into  his  head.  The  event  probably  oc- 
curred at  Deptford,  where,  according  to  the  register  of  St.  Nicho- 
las Church,  Marlowe  was  buried  in  June,  1593.  And  it  is  also 
recorded  that  he  was  '  slaine  by  Francis  Archer.' 


1792-1848.J  FREDERICK   MARRYAT.  205 

The  present  St.  Nicholas  Church  was  erected  on  the  site 
of  the  old  one,  taken  down  in  1697.  It  stands  on  Deptford 
Green,  west  of  the  Dockyard,  and  contains  no  monument  or 
tablet  to  Marlowe. 

We  read  of  one  Marlowe  a  Cambridge  SchoUer,  who  was  a  poet 
and  a  filthy  play-maker  ;  this  wretch  accounted  that  meeke 
servant  of  God,  Moses,  to  be  but  a  conjuror,  and  our  _    ^, 

'  '  .  The  Thun- 

Sweet  Saviour  to  be  but  a  seducer  and  deceiver  of  the  derboit  of 
people.      But  barken,   ye   brain-sicke  and   prophane  Against 
poets  and  players,  that  bewitch  idle  eares  with  foolish  Jfya^gj}  ^ud 
vanities,  what  fell  upon  this  prophane  wretch  ;  having  stiff-necked 

.  ,  ,  .        ,  .       Sinners. 

a  quarrell  against  one  whom  he  met  m  the  street  m  London, 
London,  and  would  have  stab'd  him  ;  but  the  partie        ' 
perceiving  his  villany  prevented  him  with  catching  his  hand,  and 
turning  his  own  dagger  into  his  braines  ;  and  so  blaspheming  and 
cursing  he  yeelded  up  his  stinking  breath.     Marke  this,  ye  players 
that  live  by  making  fools  laugh  at  sinne  and  wickedness. 


FREDEPJCK   MARRYAT. 

1792-1848. 

1\ /f  ARRYAT  was  born  in  Westminster,  and  educated  at  a 
private  school  *  in  the  red  brick  house  at  the  upper 
end  of  Baker  Street,  Enfield'  (Ford's  Enfield).  From  this 
school,  after  repeated  truant  exploits,  he  was  taken  in  1806, 
and  sent  to  sea ;  and  he  did  not  settle  finally  on  shore  until 
1830. 

In  1832  his  address  was  No.  38  St.  James's  Place,  St. 
James's  Street,  which  half  a  century  later  remained  un- 
changed;  and  in  1837,  and  again  in  1839,  he  lodged  at 
No.  8  Duke  Street,  St.  James's,  in  a  house  which  was  still 
a  lodging-house  in  1885.  There  he  wrote  and  published 
'  Percival  Keene.' 


206  FREDERICK   MARRYAT.  11792-1848. 

lu  1841  and  in  after  years  while  on  his  periodical  visits 
to  London  during  the  season,  his  letters  were  addressed  to 
No.  120  Pall  Mall,  between  Trafalgar  Square  and  Waterloo 
Place,  subsequently  the  site  of  the  French  Gallery,  lu 
1842,  however,  he  had  a  house  —  unaltered  in  1885  —  at 
No.  3  Spanish  Place,  Manchester  Square,  and  here  he  wrote 
'  Masteriuan  Ready.' 

Among  Marryat's  suburban  homes  was  Sussex  House, 
Hammersmith,  which  still  stood  in  1885  opposite  Branden- 
burg House,  a  little  back  from  the  river  on  the  Fulham 
Road,  and  facing  Alma  Terrace.  Marryat  was  also  a  fre- 
quent inmate  of  the  house  of  his  mother,  at  Wimbledon 
Common. 

On   the  borders  of  the   Common   [Wimbledon   Common]  are 

several  good  houses.     The  most  remarkable  is  Wim- 

Uand-Book    bledon    House.  ...  In    1815   it   was   purchased   by 

Environs  of   Joseph  Marryat,  Esq.,  M.  P.  (father  of  the  novelist), 

London:        and  after  his  death,  in  1824,  was  for  several  years 

Wimbledon.  r  i  ■  ^^  \  ^ 

the  residence  of  his  widow,  who  made  the  grounds 
famous  for  rare  plants  and  flowers. 

Wimbledon  House,  at  the  southern  extremity  of  Wim- 
bledon Park,  was  left  intact  in  1885,  but  shut  out  from  the 
town  and  the  Common  by  high  walls. 

The  apartment  he  [Marryat]  occupied  whilst  on  his  visits  to 
Wimbledon  House,  and  in  which  he  wrote,  was  one  upon  the 

second  story  overlooking  the  Park  ;  and  in  this  room. 
Letters  of  at  a  table  covered  with  an  African  lion's  skm,  and 
Maro'at.  on  a  little  old  black  leather  blotting-book,  worn  with 
^J*'-  "•-..         use  and  replete  to  bursting  Avith  ruled  foolscap,  several 

of  his  books  were  composed.  His  handwriting  was 
so  minute  that,  the  compositor  having  given  up  the  task  of  deci- 
phering it  in  despair,  the  copyist  had  to  stick  a  pin  in  at  the 
place  where  he  left  off  to  insure  his  finding  it  again  when  he 
resumed  his  task. 


1620-1678.]  ANDREW   MARVELL.  207 

Marryat  is  also  said  to  have  lived  in  a  white  cottage 
called  Gothic  House,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  south  of  Wim- 
bledon Common,  and  on  the  road  to  Kingston.  It  was 
standing  in   1885. 

Marryat  died,  and  was  buried,  at  Langham  in  Norfolk, 
where  the  later  years  of  his  life  were  spent. 

His  club  was  the  United  Service,  Nos.  11 G  and  117  Pall 
MaU. 


ANDREW   MAEVELL. 

1620-1678. 

IV  yTARVELL  does  not  seem  to  have  known  much  of 
^^■^  London  until  1657,  when  he  was  appointed  Latin 
Secretary,  under  Milton,  to  Oliver  Cromwell,  and  had  lodg- 
ings in  Scotland  Yard,  Whitehall ;  and  the  accounts  pre- 
served to  us,  of  his  life  in  London,  then  and  latei",  are  very 
vague.  While  he  was  sitting  in  the  House  of  Commons  as 
member  for  Hull,  he  occupied  poor  apartments  on  the 
second  floor  of  a  house  in  Maiden  Lane,  Covent  Garden. 
Here  he  refused,  with  scorn,  the  bribes  of  Charles,  while  he 
had  not  a  guinea  in.  his  pocket  to  pay  for  his  daily  bi-ead. 
Marvell's  Maiden  Lane  house  has  been  taken  down.  It  was 
next  to  the  Bedford  Head,  on  the  site  of  which  a  modern 
Bedford  Tavern  (No.  41  Maiden  Lane)  has  been  built.  For  a 
number  of  years  he  occupied  a  small  and  unpretentious  cot- 
tage on  Highgate  Hill,  north  of  the  then  Lauderdale  House, 
later  the  Convalescent  House  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital, 
and  opposite  Cromwell  House.  This  cottage,  in  its  old- 
fashioned  garden,  was  in  existence  until  1869.  Part  of  its 
front  garden-wall  still    remained    in    1885,  with    the  stone 


208  ANDREW   MAKVELL.  [1620-1678, 

Steps  leading  from  the  street,  upon  which  tradition  says  the 
poet  was  fond  of  sitting  to  watch  the  passer-by,  perhaps  to 
moraHzc  upon  the  actions  of  Nell  Gwynne,  his  uncongenial 
neighbor  of  Lauderdale  House. 

Marvell  died  at  Kingston-upon-Hidl,  and  was  buried  in 
the  vault  of  the  old  Church  of  St.  Giles-in-the-Field.  The 
present  church  is  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

Edward  Thompson,  the  editor  of  Mar  veil's  Works,  gives 
the  following  account  of  his  resting-place  :  — 

In  tlie  year  1774  I  visited  the  grand  mausoleum  under  the 
Church  of  St.  Giles,  for  the  coffin  in  which  Mr.  Marvell  was 
placed.  lu  this  vault  were  deposited  upwards  of  a  thousand 
bodies,  but  I  could  find  no  plate  of  an  earlier  date  than  1772. 
I  do  therefore  suppose  that  the  new  church  is  built  upon  the 
former  burial-place.  The  epitaph  placed  on  the  north  side  of  the 
church  by  his  grand-nephew,  Mr.  Robert  Nettleton,  is  supposed 
to  be  over  his  remains,  and  near  to  the  monument  of  Sir  Roger 
L'Estrange. 

This  epitaph  upon  a  black  marble  mural  tablet  is  on  the 
north  aisle  of  the  church,  opposite  pews  13  and  14.  The 
gilt  lettering  was  almost  obliterated  in  1885. 

Marvell  was  a  frequenter  of  Haycock's  Ordinary,  which 
stood  on  the  south  side  of  the  Strand,  between  Temple  Bar 
and  the  present  Palsgrave  Restaurant  (see  Prior),  and  of 
the  Rota,  or  Coffee  Club,  held  'at  one  Miller's'  at  the 
Turk's  Head  in  New  Palace  Yard.  No  sign  of  the  Turk's 
Head  or  of  the  New  Palace  Yard  of  Marvell's  time  now 
remains. 


PHILIP    MASSINGER. 


1584-1639.]  PHILIP  MASSINGER.  209 


PHILIP   MASSINGER 

1584-1638. 

T  ITTLE  is  known  of  the  personal  history  of  Massingcr, 
-^^  either  in  London  or  out  of  it,  and  liis  early  biogra- 
phei'S  vary  greatly  in  the  dates  they  give  of  his  birth  and 
his  death.  The  author  of  the  '  British  Theatre'  says  he  was 
born  in  1578,  and  died  in  1659  ;  but  the  dates  attached 
hereto,  taken  from  Anthony  Wood,  and  the  registry  of  the 
church  in  which  he  was  buried,  are  probably  correct.  He 
was  found  dead  in  his  bed  '  in  his  own  house,  near  the 
play-house  on  the  bank  side,  Southwark '  (see  Shakspere), 
and  he  was  buried  in  the  churchyard  of  St.  Mary  Overy, 
afterwards  St.  Saviour's,  Southwark,  at  the  end  of  London 
Bridge  (see  Fletcher,  p.  107,  and  Gower,  p.  126).  His 
grave  is  now  unknown ;  and  the  parochial  register  simply 
records  the  interment  of  '  Philip  Massinger,  a  Stranger.' 

His   bodie   being   accompanied  by  comedians,  was 
buried  in  the  middle  of  the  church  yard  there,  com-  Athena^ 
inonly  called  the  Bull  Heade  Church  yard — for  there  vol.  i.'^coi. ' 
are  in  all  four  church  yards  belonging  to  that  church  ^^^■ 
—  on  the  18th  of  March. 

A  stone  in  the  floor  of  the  choir  of  the  old  church  has 
had,  within  a  few  years,  engraven  upon  it  his  name  and  the 
date  of  his  death,  although  it  is  an  established  fact  that  he 
does  not  lie  beneath  it. 


210  JOIIN  JMILTON.  [1608-1674. 


JOHN   MILTON. 

1608-1674. 

A  LTHOUGH  the  *  Prince  of  Poets  '  was  born  and  died  in 
■^  ^  London,  received  part  of  his  education.in  London,  was 
married  frequently  in  London,  and  lived  in  many  houses 
in  the  metropolis,  there  is  left  to-day  hardly  a  trace  of  any- 
thing that  he  has  touched,  or  that  is  in  any  way  associated 
with  him.  Even  his  grave  was  desecrated,  and  the  precise 
spot  in  which  his  bones  lie  cannot  now  be  discovered. 

He  was  born  in  Bread  Street,  Cheapside,  at  the  sign  of 
the  Spread  Eagle  (his  family  crest),  on  the  9th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1G08,  and  was  baptized  in  the  neighboring  Church  of 
All  Hallows.  Both  the  house  and  the  church  were  destroyed 
in  the  Great  Fire  of  1666.  Black  Spread  Eagle  Court  was 
in  1885  covered  by  modern  buildings  ;  Nos.  58  to  63  Bread 
Street  being  occupied  by  one  firm,  who  have  on  the  top 
floor  a  bust  of  Milton,  with  an  inscription  stating  that  it 
stands  on  the  site  of  the  house  of  his  birth. 

All  Hallows  Church,  on  the  corner  of  Bread  and  AVatling 
Streets,  was  rebuilt  by  Wren  after  the  Fire,  but  was  taken 
down  in  1878,  and  a  large  warehouse  erected  on  its  grounds. 
On  this  is  placed  a  tablet  containing  a  bust  of  Milton,  and 
an  inscription  explaining  its  connection  with  the  bard.  The 
tablet  with  the  lines  of  Dryden  so  often  quoted,  '  Three 
poets  in  three  distant  ages  born,'  etc.,  that  adorned  this 
church,  has  now  been  placed  on  the  outside  west  wall  of  Bow 
•  Church,  hard  l)y. 

Milton's  christening  is  recoi'ded  in  the  register  of  All 
Hallows,  still  extant:  'The  XXth  daye  of  December,  1608, 
was  baptized  John,  the  sonne  of  John  Milton,  Scrivenei'.' 


1608-1674.]  JOHN  MILTON.  -  211 

The  young  Milton  was  sent  to  Paul's  School  at  an  early 
age. 

When  he  [Milton]  went  to  schools,  when  he  was  very  young 
he  studied  very  hard,  and  sate  up  very  late,  conunonly 
till  twelve  or  one  o'clock  at  nif^ht.  and  his   father  Aubrey's 

°     ■  Lives  of 

ordered  the  mayde  to  sitt  up   for  him,  and  in  those  Eminent 

Persons ' 

yeares   (10)    composed   many  copies  of  verses  which  Milton.  ' 
might  well  become  a  riper  age. 

Paul's  School  was  destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire  also.  It 
was  rebuilt  soon  after  on  the  same  site,  on  the  east  side 
of  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  between  Watling  Street  and 
Cheapside ;  but  it  was  removed  in  the  summer  of  1884  to 
Hammersmith  Eoad,  West  Kensington.  The  building  known 
to  the  present  genei'ation  as  Paul's  School,  in  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard,  was  not  erected  until  1823. 

Saw  all  the  towne  burned,  and  a  miserable  sight  of  Pepys's 

°  Diary,  vol. 

Paul's  Church,  with  all  the  roofs  fallen,  and  the  body  ii.,  Sept.  7, 
of  the  quire  fallen  into  St.  Fayth's  ;  Paul's  school  also. 

London  saw  but  little  of  Milton  fi'om  his  sixteenth  year, 
when  he  was  sent  to  Cambridge,  until  1639;  when,  after 
a  Continental  tour,  he  lodged  in  the  house  of  one  Russell, 
a  tailor  in  St.  Bride's  Churchyard. 

The  house,  as  I  learned  from  an  old  and  most  respectable 
inhabitant  of  St.  Bride's  Parish,  was  on  the  left  hand  as  you 
proceed  towards  Fleet  Street  through  the  avenue.     It 

,,  ^,  1  -,  ,    Hewitt's 

was  a  very  small  tenement,  very  old,  and  was  burned  Homes  and 
down  on  the  24th  of  November,  1824,  at  which  time  British^  ° 
it  was  occupied  by  a  hair-dresser.     It  was  —  in  proof  M^iton^"'' '' 
of  its  age  —  without  party  walls  and  much  decayed. 
The  back  part  of  the  '  Punch '  office  now  occupies  its  site.     These 
lodgings  were  too  small,  and  he  took  a  garden  house  in  Aldersgate  , 
Street,  situated  at  the  end  of  an  entry,  that  he  might  avoid  the 
noise  and   disturbance  of  the  street.  .  .  .  This  liou.se  was  large 
and   commodious,  atTording  room  for  his  library  and  furniture. 
Here  he  commenced  his  career  of  pure  authorship. 


212  JOHN  MILTON.  £1608-1674. 

Masson,  in  his  interesting  and  vahiable  sketch  of  Milton's 
life,  prefixed  to  an  edition  of  Milton's  Poems  published  by 
Macmillan  in  1874,  says  :  — 

Aldei-sgate  Street  is  very  different  now,  and  not  a  vestige  of 
Milton's  house  remains  ;  it  stood  at  the  back  of  the  part  of  the 
street  on  the  right  hand  as  you  go  from  St.  Martin's-le- Grand  to 
where  is  now  Maidenhead  Court. 

It  seems  to  have  been  while  they  were  living  in  the  St. 
Bride's  Chnrchyard  house,  although  the  authorities  diflfer, 
that  Milton's  first  wife,  Mary  Powell,  who  was  the  mother 
of  his  daughters,  and  to  whom  he  was  married  in  1643, 
left  her  husband,  on  a  visit  to  her  family,  and  refused  to 
return.  Mrs.  Milton,  however,  met  her  lord  again  at  the 
house  of  a  friend,  '  in  the  lane  of  St.  Martin's-le-Gi"and,' 
besought  his  forgiveness  on  her  knees,  and  was  taken  back 
to  his  home,  if  not  to  his  heart. 

His  first  wife  was  brought  up  and  lived  where  there  was  a  great 
Aubrey's  ^^^^  ^^  company  and  merriment,  dancing,  etc,  and 
Lives  of         when  she  came  to  live  with  her  husband  at  Mr.  Rus- 

Emineiit  ,  •  i  /-^ll  i  i       i 

Persons :       sell's   in   St.  Bride's   Churchyard,  she   found  it  very 
solitary;  no   company  came  to  her,  oftentimes  heard 
his  nephews  beaten  and  cry  ;  this  life  was  irksome  to  her,  and  so 
she  went  to  her  parents. 

About  1644  Milton  removed  to  the  Barbican,  Aldersgate 
Street,  where  he  still  taught  school,  and  gave  refuge  to  his 
wife's  relations,  who  were  royalists,  and  who  felt  more  kindly 
towards  him  when  they  found  that  his  was  the  winning  side. 
His  father-in-law  died  in  his  house  at  Holborn  in  1647. 

When  it  is  considered  that  Milton  cheerfully  opened  his  doors 
to  those  who  had  treated  him  with  indignity  and  breach  of  faith, 
Todd's  Mil-  —  to  a  father  who,  according  to  the  poet's  nuncupative 
ton,  1647.  .^j-Q^  never  paid  him  the  promised  marriage  portion 
of  a  thousand  pounds  ;  and  to  a  mother  who,  according  to  Wood, 
had  encouraged  the  daughter  in  her  perverseness,  —  we  cannot  but 


1608-1674.]  JOHN  MILTON.  213 

concede  to  Mr.  Hayley's  conclusions,  that  the  records  of  private 
life  contain  not  a  more  magnanimous  example  of  forgiveness  and 
beneficence. 

Milton's  house,  No.  17  Barbican,  was  not  taken  down 
until  1864.     A  modern  warehouse  occupies  its  site. 

The  house  to  which  Milton  removed  was  in  the  street  called 
Barbican,  going  from  Aldersgate  Street  at  right  angles,  and 
within  a  walk  of  two  or  three  minutes  from  the  former  „ 

Masson  s 

house.     As  you  went  from  Aldersgate  Street  it  was  on  Memoir  of 
the  right  side  of  the  Barbican.     It  existed  entire  until 
only  the  other  day,  when  one  of  the  new  city  lailways  was  cut 
through  that  neighborhood. 

Milton  remained  but  a  short  time  in  the  Barbican,  for  in 
1646-47  he  was  to  be  found  in  a  small  house  on  Holborn, 
'  opening  backwards  into  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,'  probably  be- 
tween Great  and  Little  Turnstiles.  While  Latin  Secretary 
to  Cromwell  he  was  lodged  in  Scotland  Yard,  Whitehall,  and 
also  at  '  one  Thompson's,  next  door  to  the  Bull  Head  Tavern 
at  Charing  Cross,  opening  into  Spring  Gardens '  (see  Cibbeu, 
p.  52),  a  short  and  quiet  street  connecting  Whitehall  and 
the  present  Trafalgar  Square  with  the  east  end  of  the  Mall 
and  St.  James's  Park.  He  soon  after  took  a  '  pretty  garden 
bouse'  in  Petty  France,  Westminster.  Here  he  lived  for 
eight  years,  and  here  losing  his  first  wife  be  took  to  him- 
self a  second.  William  Howitt,  in  his  '  Homes  and  Haunts 
of  British  Poets,'  thtis  describes  the  house  in  Petty  France 
as  he  saw  it  in  1868:^ — ■ 

It  no  longer  opens  into  St.  James's  Park.  The  ancient  front  is 
now  its  back,  and  overlooks  the  fine  old,  but  house-surrounded, 
garden  of  Jeremy  Bentham.  Near  the  top  of  l>his  ancient  front 
is  a  stone,  bearing  this  inscription,  *  Sacred  to  Milton,  the  Prince 
of  Poets.'  This  was  placed  there  by  no  less  distinguished  a  man 
than  William  Hazlitt,  who  rented  the  house  for  some  years,  purely 
because   it   was    Milton's.     Bentham,  when  he   w.os  conducting 


214  JUliN   MLLTUN.  [1608-1674. 

people  round  his  garden,  used  to  make  them  sometimes  go  down 
on  their  knees  to  tliis  liouse.  The  house  is  tall  and  narrow,  and 
has  nothing  striking  about  it.  No  doubt,  when  it  opened  into  St. 
James's  Park,  it  was  pleasant ;  now  it  fronts  into  York  Street, 
which  runs  in  a  direct  line  from  the  west  end  of  Westminster 
Abbey.     It  is  No.  19. 

Milton  completely  lost  the  use  of  his  eyes  in  Petty  France. 
This  house,  afterwards  No.  19  York  Street,  Westminster, 
was  taken  down  in  1877  (see  Hazlitt,  p.  132).  Its  gardens 
form  part  of  the  lawn  of  Queen  Anne  Mansions,  where  was 
still  shown  in  1885  an  old  tree  said  to  have  been  planted  by 
Milton  himself.  ' 

Tradition  says  that  Milton,  after  the  return  of  the  Stuarts 
in  1660,  took  refuge  in  Bartholomew  Close  (Duke  Street, 
Aldersgate),  which  is  still  full  of  old  houses  spared  by  the 
Great  Fire.  Near  the  yard  of  the  Church  of  St.  Barthol- 
omew the  Great  were  a  row  of  old  buildings  in  1885,  ftxcing 
on  Cloth  Fair,  from  the  back  windows  of  which  the  poet  was 
no  doubt  often  seen  going  in  and  out  of  the  Close. 

Milton,  after  the  Eestoration,  withdrew  for  a  time  to  a  friend's 

house  in  Bartholomew   Close.     By  this  precaution  he  probably 

Todd's  escaped  the  particular  prosecution  which  was  at  first 

Milton,  directed  against  him.     Mr.  Warton  was  told  bv  Mr. 

section  iv.       _,  „  i  i       •  , 

lyers,  irom   good   authority,  that   when   Milton  was 

under  prosecution  with  Goodwin,  his  friends,  to  gain  time,  made 

a  mock  funeral  for  him,  and  that  when  matters  were  settled  in 

his  favor  and  the  affair  was  known,  the  king  laughed  heartily  at 

the  trick. 

After  Milton's  pardon  by  Charles,  he  took  a  house  in 
Holboru,  'near  Red  Lion  Fields,'  afterwards  known  as  Red 
Lion  Square  ;  and  later  he  went  to  Jewin  Street,  Aldersgate, 
where  in  1662  he  married  his  third  and  last  wife,  who  sur- 
vived him.     Jewin  Street  has  been  entirely  rebuilt. 

The  last  years  of  Milton's  life  were  spent  in  a  house  in 
Artillery   Walk,  Bunhill    Fields,    where    he   composed  and 


JOHN    MILTON. 


1608-1674.]  JOHN   MILTON.  215 

dictated  to  his  daughters  his  '  Paradise  Lost,'  *  Paradise 
Piegained,'  and  'Samsou  Agonistes,'  and  where  he  died  in 
1674. 

Artillery  Walk,  Buuhill  Fields,  has  entirely  disappeared  ; 
and  the  nearest  approach  to  it,  in  name,  is  Artillery  Place, 
Bunhill  Row.     Milton's  house,  — 

as  has  been  ascertained  with  some  trouble,  was  in  that  part  of  the 
present  Bunhill  Row,  where  there  is  now  a  clump  of  ,, 

'■  '  _  .  ^  Masson  s 

new  houses  to  the  left  of  the  passenger,  which  turns  Memoirs  of 
northward   from  Chiswell   Street  towards  St.  Luke's 
Hospital  and  Peerless  Pool. 

It  was  on  the  west  side  of  Bunhill  Row,  not  very  far  fx-ora 
Chiswell  Street. 

An  ancient  clergyman  of  Dorsetshire,  Dr.  Wright,  found  John 

Milton  in  a  small  chamber  hmig  with  rusty  green,  sitting  in  an 

elbow-chair,  and  dressed  neatly  in  black  ;  pale  but  not  „.  , 

'  ''  '    ^  .         Rieliarilson's 

cadaverous  ;  his  hands   and    lingers   gouty   and   with  Kxiiiiuiatoiy 
chalk-stones.      He   used  also  to  sit  in  a  gray,  coarse  svo,  1734,  ' 
cloth  coat,  at  the  door  of  his  house  in  Bunhill  Fields,  !'•  '^• 
in  warm  sunny  weather,  to  enjoy  the  fresh  air  ;  and  so,  as  well  as 
in  his  room,  received  the  visits  of  people  of  distinguished  parts  as 
well  as  quahty. 

Milton  died  of  the  gowte  struck  in,  the  9th  or  10th  of  Novem- 
ber,   1674,   as   appears    by   his    apothecaryes    booke.  , 
...  He  lies  buried  in  St.  Giles's,  Cripplegate,  upper  Lives  of 
end   of  the  chancell,  at   the  right  hand.      Mem.  his  persons: 
stone  is  now  removed  ;  about  two  yeares  since  [1681]     '  ''''"• 
the  two  steppes  to  the  communion  table  were  raysed.     I  ghesse 
Jo.  Speed  and  he  lie  together. 

There  was  long  credited  a  story  to  the  effect  that  Mil- 
ton's body  was  disturbed  and  desecrated  on  the  occasion  of 
the  raising  of  the  chancel  of  St.  Giles's  Church  towards  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  that  fragments  of  his 
skeleton  were  carried  off  by  relic-hunters ;  but  Mr.  C.  M. 


216  MARY   RUSSELL   MITFORD.  [1787-1855. 

Ingleby,    in  his  '  Sliakspere's  Bones'  (London,   1883),  thus 
discredits  the  report :  — 

On  the  4th  of  August,  1790,  according  to  a  small  vohime 
written  by  Philip  Neve,  Esi^.  (of  which  two  editions  were  pub- 
lished in  the  same  yoai),  Milton's  cotiin  was  removed  and  his 
remains  exhibited  to  the  public  on  the  4tii  and  5th  uf  that  month. 
Mr.  George  Stevens,  the  great  editor  of  Shakspere,  who  justly 
denounced  the  indignity  intended,  not  offered,  to  the  great 
Puritan  poet's  remains  by  Royalist  Landsharks,  satisfied  himself 
that  the  corpse  was  that  of  a  woman  of  fewer  years  than  Milton. 
.  .  .  Mr.  Steevena's  assurance  gives  us  good  reason  for  believing 
that  Mr.  Philip  Neve's  indignant  protest  is  only  good  in  general, 
and  that  Milton's  hallowed  reliques  still  rest  undisturbed  within 
their  peaceful  shrine. 

The  removing  of  the  stone  in  1679,  alluded  to  by  Aubrey, 
renders  uncertain  the  exact  place  of  his  burial ;  and  the 
inscription  in  the  pavement  of  the  middle  aisle  near  the 
Lord  Mayor's  double  pew,  numbered  16  and  17,  simply  reads 
that  he  'lies  near  this  spot.' 

Au  elaborate  monument,  containing  his  bust,  was  erected 
in  the  church,  by  public  subscription,  in  1862. 


MARY   RUSSELL   MITFORD. 

1787-1855. 

ly  TARY  RUSSELL  MITFORD'S  earliest  experiences  of 
-'■*-*■  London,  when  she  was  eight  or  nine  years  old,  were 
not  of  the  most  cheerful  kind.  The  family  lived  on  the  Sur- 
rey side  of  Blackfriars  Bridge  while  Dr.  INIitford  sought  refuge 
from  his  creditors  within  the  rules  of  King's  Bench.  In 
1798  she  was  sent  to  a  school  at  No.  22  Hans  Place,  Sloane 
Street  (see  Miss  Landon,  p.  194),  which  is  described,  in  her 


1787-1855.]  MARY   RUSSELL  MITFORD.  217 

'  Life  and  Letters,'  as  being  then  a  new  house,  bright,  clean, 
freshly  painted,  and  looking  into  a  garden  full  of  shrubs  and 
flowers.  The  house  had  been  rebuilt  in  1885.  The  garden 
was  still  full  of  flowers,  but  the  brightness  and  freshness  of 
the  buildings  in  the  little  square  were  things  of  the  past. 
Here  Miss  Mitford  remained  as  a  scholar  until  1803  ;  and 
here,  and  to  the  later  home  of  her  teachers,  —  who  were 
her  warm  friends  as  well,  —  at  No.  33  Hans  Place,  she  came, 
while  in  London,  for  a  number  of  years.  During  her  fre- 
quent excursions  to  town  she  lodged  and  visited  in  different 
places.  In  1818  she  was  a  guest  at  Tavistock  House, 
Tavistock  Square,  afterwards  the  home  of  Dickens  (see 
Dickens,  p.  84).  In  1826  she  wrote  from  No.  45  Frith 
Street,  Soho,  — No.  49  in  1885,  In  1828,  when  she  came 
to  London  to  see  the  first  performance  of  '  Rienzi,'  she 
lodged  at  No.  5  Great  Queen  Street,  on  the  north  side, 
near  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields;  and  in  1834  she  was  at  No. 
35  Norfolk  Street,  Strand,  in  a  house  still  standing  and 
unchanged  fifty  years  later,  where  she  '  held  a  sort  of 
drawing-room  every  morning,'  and  was  lionized  to  her 
heart's  content.  Her  friends  were  among  the  leading  men 
and  women  in  all  professions  and  ranks.  In  1836  she  had 
apartments  at  No.  5Q  Russell  Square,  between  Bedford 
Place  and  Southampton  Row,  where  she  writes  :  — 

Mr.  Wordsworth,  Mr.  Landor,  and  Mr.  White  dined  here.  I 
like  Mr.  Wordsworth,  of  all  things.  .  .  .  Mr.  Landor  is  a  very 
striking-looking  person,  and  exceedingly  clever.  Also  we  had  a 
Mr.  Browning,  a  young  poet,  and  Mr.  Procter  and  Mr.  Morley, 
and  quantities  more  of  poets  ;  Stanfield  and  Lucas  were  also  there. 

In  the  later  years  of  her  life  Miss  Mitfoi'd  rarely  spent  a 
night  in  town,  coming  up  from  Reading  or  Swallowfield  only 
for  the  day,  and  to  see  Miss  Barrett  or  some  of  her  intimate 
friends.  She  died  in  1855,  and  was  buried  in  the  church- 
yard of  Swallowfield,  —  '  Our  Village.' 


218  MARY  WOKTLEY   MONTAGU.  [1690-1762. 


MAKY   WOKTLEY  MONTAGU. 

1690-1762. 

T  ADY  MARY  WORTLEY  MONTAGU,  although  boin 
-^^  in  Nottinghamshire,  was  christened  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Paul,  Covent  Garden,  since  rebuilt  (see  Butler,  p,  29). 

Her  London  home  during  her  youth  was  in  Arlington 
Street,  Piccadilly,  at  the  house  of  her  father,  the  Marquis  of 
Dorchester,  afterwards  Duke  of  Kingston,  who  introduced 
her  to  the  Kit  Kat  Club  when  it  held  its  sittings  at  the 
Cat  and  Fiddle  in  Shire  Lane  (see  Addison,  p.  8).  Lady 
Louisa  Stuart,  in  Lord  Wharncliffe's  'Life  and  Writings  of 
Lady    Montagu/  gives  the  following  account  of  the  scene  :  — 

One  (lay  at  a  meeting  to  choose  toasts  for  the  year,  a  whim 
seized  bim  [Duke  of  Kingston]  to  nominate  his  danglifcer,  then  not 
eight  years  old,  a  candidate,  alleging  that  she  was  far  prettier  than 
any  lady  on  their  list.  The  other  members  demurred,  because 
the  rules  of  the  club  forbade  them  to  select  a  beauty  whom  they 
had  never  seen.  '  Then  you  shall  see  her,'  cried  he  ;  and  in  the 
gayety  of  the  moment  sent  orders  to  have  her  finely  dressed,  and 
brought  to  him  at  the  tavern,  where  she  was  received  with  accla- 
mations, her  claims  unanimously  allowed,  her  health  dmink  by 
every  one  present,  and  her  name  engraved,  in  due  form,  upon  a 
drinking-glass.  The  company  consisting  of  some  of  the  most 
eminent  men  in  England,  she  went  from  the  lap  of  one  poet  or 
patriot  or  statesman  to  the  arms  of  another,  was  feasted  with 
sweetmeats,  overwhelmed  with  caresses,  and,  what  perhaps  al- 
ready pleased  her  better  than  either,  heard  her  wit  and  beauty 
loudly  extolled  on  every  side.  Pleasure,  she  said,  was  too  poor 
a  word  to  express  her  sensations,  —  they  amounted  to  ecstasy. 
Never  again,  through  her  whole  life,  did  she  pass  so  happy  a 
day. 


MARY    WORTLKY    MONTAGU. 


1690-176-2.]     MARY  WORTLEY  MONTAGU.         219 

Pope,  ill  1717,  wrote  to  the  Montagus  at  'the  Piazza, 
Covent  Garden,'  urging  them  to  go  to  Twickenham,  which 
they  did.     They  lived  at  Savile   House  there  for  some  time. 

On  the  left  of  the  Heath  Road,  east  of  the  Railway 

Thorne's 

bridae,  is  Savile    House,  a  fine  old  red  brick  mansion  Haud-Book 
with   tall  roofs,  where  for  several  years   lived  Lady  Environs  of 
Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  who   came  here  to  be  near  ^^i^j^"' 
Pope,  —  fast  friends  then,  too  soon  to  be  bitter  foes.         enham. 

This  house  remained  iu  1885  as  Mr.  Thorne  has  de- 
scribed it. 

Occasionally  during  these  years  she  lived  in  Cavendish 
Square. 

After  a  long  absence  on  the  Continent,  she  retui-ned  to 
London  in  17G1. 

Lady  Mary  Wortley  is  arrived.     I  have  seen  her.     I  think  her 

avarice,  her  dirt,  and  her  vivacity  are  all  increased.     Her  dress, 

like  her  language,  is  a  galimatias  of  several  countries  :  „ 

°      °  °      ,    .  1       .  1  .  Correspond- 

the   groundwork  rags,  and  its   embroidery  nastmess.  enceof 

She  needs  no  cap,  no  handkerchief,  no  gown,  no  petti-  waipoie, 
coat,  no  shoes.     An  old  black   laced  hood  represents  ^^'^"■ 
the  first ;  the  fur  of  a  horseman's  coat,  which  replaces  the  third, 
serves  for  the  second  ;  a  dimity  petticoat  is  deputy,  and  officiates 
for  the  fourth  ;  and  slippers  act  the  part  of  the  last. 

In  George  Street,  Hanover  Si^uare,  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Mon- 
tagu passed  some  of  the  last  months  of  her  long  life.  From  her 
loiisr  residence  on  the  Continent  she  had  imbibed  for-  ^ 

°  _  .  Jesse  s 

eign  tastes  and  foreign  habits ;  and  consequently  the  London, 
change  from  the  spacious  magnificence  of  an  Italian  Hanover 
palijce  to  a  small  three-storied  house  in  the  neighbor-  ^^l^'^''^- 
hood  of  Hanover  Square  was  as  striking  as  it  was  disagreeable. 
'  I  am  most  handsomely  lodged,'  she    said,  '  for  I  have   two  very 
decent  closets  and  a  cupboard  on  each  floor.' 

She  removed  to  Berkeley  Square  in  1762,  where  she  died 
the  same  year.  She  was  buried  in  Grosvenor  Chapel,  in 
South  Audley  Street  (see  Chesterfield,  p.  50). 


220  THOMAS   MOORE.  [1779-1852. 


M 


THOMAS   MOOEE. 

1779-1852. 

OORE  first  came  to  London  in  1799  to  be  entered  as  a 
student  in  the  Middle  Temple,  and  lodged  for  a  time  in 
a  front  room  up  two  pairs  of  stairs,  at  Wo.  44  George  Street, 
Portman  Square,  —  numbered  lOG  in  1885, — paying  six 
shillings  a  week  for  his  accommodations.  In  1801  he  wrote 
to  his  mother  from  No.  46  Wigmore  Street,  Cavendish  Square. 
This  house,  since  rebuilt,  was  on  the  north  side,  and  after- 
wards No.  40.  In  1805  he  was  found  at  No.  27  Bury 
Street,  St.  James's,  his  London  home  for  ten  or  twelve 
years.  To  this  house  be  took  his  young  wife  in  1811  ;  and 
he  speaks  of  a  visit  to  it  when  he  was  an  old  man,  and  of 
the  associations  recalled  by  the  sight  of  the  old  familiar 
rooms.  The  house  had  even  then  been  renumbered.  It 
was  28  in  1835,  and  fifty  years  later  a  new  building  stood 
on  its  site. 

A  letter  of  Moore's  dated  from  No.  15  Duke  Street,  St. 
James's,  is  preserved  ;  and  Byron  in  1814  wrote  to  him  at 
No.  33  Bury  Street  (this  house  is  also  gone) ;  but  while  in 
town  he  was  generally  a  guest  at  Holland  House  (see 
Addison,  p.  3),  at  Gore  House  (see  Landor,  p.  195),  at 
Lansdowne  House,  on  the  south  side  of  Berkeley  Square,  or 
at  other  aristocratic  mansions  among  the  lords  he  so  dearly 
loved. 

Moore  was  married  in  the  Church  of  St.  Martin-in-the- 
Ficlds,  March  25,  1811  ;  and  in  1812,  and  for  about  a  year 
thereafter,  lived  at  Brompton.  A.  J.  Symington,  in  his 
'  Life  of  Moore  '  (chap,  iv.),  says  :  — 


THOMAS  MOORE. 


1779-1852.]  THOMAS  MOORE.  221 

On  Lady  Day  he  [Moore]  was  so  fortunate  as  to  marry  Miss 
Bessie  Dyke,  a  native  of  Kilkenny,  —  a  charming  and  amiable 
young  actress  of  considerable  ability.  Their  house  was  at  York 
Place,  Queen's  Elms,  Brompton.  The  terrace  was  isolated,  and 
opposite  nursery  gardens.  Mrs.  Moore  was  very  domestic  in 
her  tastes,  and  possessed  much  energy  of  character,  tact,  and  a 
sound  judgment. 

York  Place,  since  called  York  Mews,  is  south  of  the 
Fulham  Road,  between  Church  and  Arthur  Streets. 

In  1817  Moore  rented  the  cottage  since  known  as  Lalla 
Rookh  Cottage,  where  he  lost  a  daughter.  He  buried  her 
in  Hornsey  Churchyard,  not  far  from  the  spot  where  Ptogers 
afterwards  was  laid  (see  Rogers). 

At  the  foot  of  the  hill  [Muswell  Hill,  Middlesex],  lying  back 
on  the  right,  is  a  long,  low  brick  cottage  with  a  ve-  xhome's  ' 
randa  in  front  and  a  lawn  sloping  down  to  a  pond  by  "^^"fg  ^"^'^ 
the    roadside,   which   was  the  residence  of  Abraham  Environs 

mi       ofLnnilon: 

Newland,  cashier  of  the  Bank  ot  England.  .  .  .  ihe  Muswell 
poet  Moore  rented  it  in  1817,  and  his  eldest  daughter,  ^*'"' 
Anne  Barbara,  died  here,  and  lies  in  Hornsey  Churchyard.  From 
a  mistaken  tradition  that  the  poem  was  written  in  it,  the  cottage  is 
now  [1876]  named  Lalla  Rookh  Cottage  ;  the  poem  was  written 
before,  but  published  whilst  Moore  lived  here.  The  cottage  will 
be  easily  recognized  ;  it  lies  next  to  the  Victoria  Inn  (which 
nearly  faces  the  entrance  to  the  Alexandra  Palace),  and  has  '  Lalla 
Rookh '  painted  on  the  gate-posts. 

It  remained,  in  1885,  back  of  Maynard  Street  and  Muswell 
Hill  Road. 

Moore  was  a  member  of  the  Athcneeura,  corner  of  Pall 
Mall  and  Waterloo  Place ;  Brooks's,  No.  60  St.  James's 
Street;  and  other  clubs. 


222  SIR   THOMAS   MORE.  [1480-1535. 


HANNAH   MOKE. 

1745-1833. 

TTANNAH  MORE  never  had  a  permanent  home  in 
London.  She  came  first  to  town  in  1774.  In  1777 
she  was  lodging  in  Henrietta  Street,  Covent  Garden,  and  in 
Gerard  Street,  Soho ;  but  she  was  generally  the  guest  of 
David  Garrick,  or  of  his  widow  after  his  death  in  1779, 
in  the  house  No.  5  Adelphi  Terrace,  marked  as  the  home  of 
the  great  actor  by  the  tablet  of  the  Society  of  Arts.  With 
the  Garricks  in  London  she  is  chiefly  associated.  Walpole 
writes  of  a  visit  he  made  to  her  at  Adelphi  Terrace  in  1791  ; 
as  long  as  Johnson  lived,  she  was  a  welcome  visitor  at  the 
house  in  Bolt  Court ;  Sir  Joshua  Eeynolds  carried  her  to 
see  his  own  and  other  pictures  ;  and  her  popularity  was 
great. 


SIR  THOMAS   MOEE. 

1478-1535. 

npHOMAS  MORE  was  born  in  Milk  Street,  Cheapside, 
'  the  brightest  star  that  ever  shone  in  that  Via  Lac- 
tea  '  (Fuller's  '  Worthies  of  England  :  More ').  All  traces  of 
More's  Milk  Street  were  entirely  destroyed  in  the  Great 
Fire  two  centuries  later. 

More  Wi\s  educated  at  St.  Anthony's  Free  School,  which 
stood,  as  is  shown  in  the  old  maps,  on  the  site  of  the  Consol- 
idated Bank,  No.  52  Threadneedle  Street.  He  afterwards 
studied  in  New  Inn,  Wych  Street,  Drury  Lane,  adjoining 
Clement's  Inn,    and  is  said  to  have  lived  in    the    Charter 


HANNAH    MORE. 


1480-1535.]  SIR  THOMAS  MORE.  223 

House  (see  Addison,  p.  1)  as  a  lay  brother.  In  1499  he 
became  a  student  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  he  was  appointed 
law  reader  of  Furnival's  Inn  after  his  admission  to  the  bar. 

From   the  period  of  More's  marriage  in  1507,  he  resided   for 
some  years  in  Bucklersbury  ;  perhaps  it  was  soon  after  1514-15 
that  he  purchased  Crosby  Place,  for  his  advancement  K„ig,^^,g 
then  became  rapid.  ...  It  is  far  from  impossible  that  ^ondon, 
this  delightful  work  [Utopia]  was  written  in  Crosby  Crosby 
Place.     In  the  preface  we  have  a  complete  picture  of  ^'^'*''^- 
Sir  Thomas's  domestic  habits  about  this  period,  and  wliich,  if  it 
does  not  directly  apply  to  Crosl:iy  Place,  may  certainly  be  applied 
to  it  by  the  mere  substitution  of  the  '  Life  of  Richard  Third  '  for 
'  Utopia,'  there  being  little  or  no  doubt  but  the  former  work  was 
written  within  its  chambers,  however  it  may  be  with  the  hitter. 

Bucklersbury  runs,  as  in  More's  day,  from  the  Poultry  to 
what  is  now  Queen  Victoria  Street.  It  is  very  ancient,  and 
is  to  be  found  in  the  maps  of  Saxon  London.  It  was  the 
quarter  of  traders  in  herbs  and  spices,  even  before  the 
Norman  Conquest,  and  until  Shakspere's  time ;  for  he  makes 
FalstafF  say  :  — 

Come,  I  cannot  cry  and  say  thou  art  this  and  that,  Men-y 
like  a  many  of  these  lisping  hawthorn  buds,  that  come  Windsor, 
like  women  in  men's  apparel  and  smell  like  Bucklers-  gjenes. 
bury  in  simple  time. 

Crosby  Place,  now  Crosby  Hall,  has  been  '  I'estored '  with 
elaborate  care,  and  stands  in  Bishopsgate  Street  near  its 
junction  with  Threadneedle  Street  (see  Shakspere). 

Sir  Thomas  More's  country  house  was  at  Chelsea  in  Middlesex, 
where  Sr.  John  Danvers  built  his  house.     The  chimney-piece  of 
marble,  in  Sr.  John's  chamber,  was  the  chimney-piece    .  ,  .    ■ 
of  Sr.  Thomas  More's  chamber,  as  Sr.  John  himself  Lives  of 
told  me.     Where  the  gate  is  now,  adorned  with  two  per.sons : 
noble   pyramids,   there  stood   anciently  a  gate  house  ^'^^'>- 
wch  was  flatt  on  the  top,  leaded,  from  whonce  is  a  most  pleasant 
prospect  of  the  Thames   and   the   fields  beyond  ;    on  this   place 


224  SIR   THOMAS  MORE.  [1480-1535. 

the  L(l.  Chancellor  More  was  wont  to  recreate  himself  and 
contenipkite. 

It  was  at  Mere's  house  in  Chelsea  that  Holbein  was 
first  presented  to  Henry  VIll.  ;  and,  according  to  tradition, 
Erasmus  was  also  a  visitor  there.     He  says  :  — 

With    him   }ou  might   imagine  yourself  in   the   Academy  of 

Plato.     But  I  should  do  injustice  to  his  house  by  comjjaring  it  to 

the  Academy  of  Plato,  where  numbers  and  geometrical 

Sii- James       fioures  and  sometimes  nujral  virtues  were  the  subject 

Mackm-  '"  _  •' 

tosh's  Life  of  discussion  ;  it  would  be  more  just  to  call  it  a  school 
and  an  exercise  of  the  Christian  religion.  All  its 
inhabitants,  male  and  female,  applied  their  leisure  to  liberal 
studies  and  profitable  reading,  although  piety  was  their  first  care. 
No  wrangling,  no  idle  word,  was  heard  in  it  ;  no  one  was  idle  ; 
every  one  did  his  duty  with  alacrity,  and  not  without  a  temperate 
cheerfulness. 

This  description  of  More's  household  by  Erasmus  may 
have  referred  to  the  Bncklersbury  mansion,  with  which  he 
■was  also  undoubtedly  familiar. 

The  old  mansion  [Sir  Thomas  More's]  stood  at  the  north  end 

of  Beaufort  Row,  extending  westward  at  the  distance  of 
Faulkner's  i         i      n  i     V  i  ^         •  i         n 

Chelsea,        about  one  hundred  yards  Irom  the  water-side,     bome 

thai'  ii.         fragments  of  the  walls,  doors,  and  windows,  and  parts 

of  the  foundation  are  still  [1829]  to  be  seen  adjoining 

to  the  burying-ground  belonging  to  the  Moravian  Society. 

Till  within  a  very  few  years  the  ground  remained  in  a  state 
Miss  that  might  have  admitted  of  ascertaining  the  site  of  the 

Aifecllotesf  bouse  [Sir  Thomas  More's] ;  but  buildings  have  now 
vol.  i.  p.  42.  gimt  i*;  out  from  search,  and  nought  remains  but  the 
name,  Beaufort  Row,  to  tell  how  it  was  once  honored. 

The  house  was  built  in  1.521.  In  the  old  chronicles  of 
Chelsea  it  was  known  as  Buckingham  House  in  1527,  and 
was  called  Beaufoi-t  House  in  1682.  It  was  immediately 
facing  the  present  Battersea  Bridge,  a  little  back  from  the 
river  and  about  whore  Beaufort  Street  now  runs.  It  was 
purchased  by  Sir  Hans  Sloane,  and  taken  down  in  1740. 


SIR    THOMAS    MORE. 


1480-1535.]  SIR   THOMAS   MORE.  225 

More  was  imprisoned  in  the  Tower  for  thirteen  months, 
and  arraigned  at  Westminster  Hall,  May  7,  loS'S.  He 
was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill. 

The  head  of  Sir  Thomas  More  was  putt  upon  London  Bridge 
where,   as   trayter's  heads   are   sett   upon  poles,  and  having  re- 
mained some  moneths  there  being  to  be  cast  into  the  j  lore's 
Thames,   because  roome   should  be  made  for  diverse  };}^%^ 

'  Sir  Thomas 

others  who  in  plentiful  sorte  suffered  martvrdoine  for  More, 

.  .  1726. 

the  same  supremacie  ;  shortly  after  it  was  brought  by 
his  daughter  Margarett,  least  —  as  she  stoutly  affirmed  before  the 
Councill,  being  called  before  them  for  the  same  matter  —  it  should 
be  foode  for  fishes  which  she  Ijuried  where  she  thought  fittest. 

After  he  [More]  was  beheaded,   his   trunke   was  interred  in 
Chelsey   Church,  near  the  middle  of  the  south  wall,  Aubrey's 
where  was  some  slight  monument  erected,  which  being  Lives  of 

"  .  '  °   Eminent 

worn   by   time,   about    1644,    Sir  Lawrence   of  Persons: 

Chelsey  (no  kinne  to  him)  at  his  own  proper  costs  and 

charges  erected  to  his  memorie  a  handsome  inscription  of  marble. 

This  inscription  was  written  by  More  himself,  as  Erasmus 
has  shown.     It  lias  several  times  been  renewed. 

In  the  old  parish  church  near  the  river  More's  monument  still 
stands  [1883].     The  church  is  an  interesting  building  of  the  most 
mixed  character.     So  far,  happily,  not  very  much  hurt  ^^^^.^,^ 
by  restorers.    More  made  a  chapel  for  his  family  tomb  History  of 
at  the  east  end  of  the  south  aisle,  and  put  up  a  black  ^q""!"":' 
slab  to  record  the  f\ict.     It  has  been  twice  '  improved,'  ^he  Western 
and  is  said  to  have  originally  contained  a  reference  to 
his  persecution  of  heresy,  for  which  a  blank  is  now  left  in  the 
renewed  inscription,  just  the  kind  of  evasion  one  can  imagine  the 
straightforward  chancellor  would  himself  have  particularly  dis- 
liked.    The  architectural  ornaments  of  the  monument  are  m  what 
was  then  the  new  Italian  style.     It  is  uncertain  Avhere  More  is 
buried.     Some  say  here  ;  some  say  in  the  Tower  Chapel. 

His  head  was  carried  by  his  daughter  to  Canterbury,   and 
buried  in  the  Roper  Vault  in  St.  Dunstan's  Church  there. 


226  ARTHUR  MURPHY.  [1727-1805. 


ARTHUE  MUEPHY. 

1727-1805. 

A  RTHUR  MURPHY,  Walpole's  '  writing  actor,'  who  was 
"^^  nevertheless  '  very  good  company,'  was  a  clerk  in  a 
banking-house  '  in  the  City,'  and  an  unsuccessful  player. 

On  quitting  the  stage  he  determined  to  study  law,  was 
refused  a  call  by  the  Benchers  of  Gray's  Inn  and  the 
Temple  because  of  his  connection  with  the  dramatic  pro- 
fession, but  was  admitted  a  barrister  by  the  Society  of 
Lincoln's  Inn  in  1757.  He  occupied  chambers  at  No.  1 
New  Square,  Lincoln's  Inn,  for  upwards  of  a  quarter  of  a 
century.  The  old  house,  in  1885,  remained  as  in  Murphy's 
time. 

During  the  latter  years  of  his  life  Murphy  lived  at  Ham- 
mersmith, '  at  the  end  of  the  Mall  and  on  the  Terrace  over- 
looking the  river.'  This  was  afterwards  called  Hammer- 
smith Terrace  ;  and  Murphy's  house,  the  last  one  at  the 
west  end  of  the  row,  was  standing  in  1885.  Its  back 
windows  look  directly  upon  the  Thames. 

Murphy  died  at  No.  14  Queen's  Row,  Knightsbridge,  in  a 
house  little  changed  in  1885,  when  it  was  No.  59  Bromptou 
Road,  and  was  buried  by  the  side  of  his  mother  in  the 
parish  Church  of  St.  Paul,  Queen  Street,  Hammersmith. 

Murphy  was  a  member  of  the  Beefsteak  Society,  which 
met  in  his  time  in  Covent  Garden  Theatre  (see  Churchill, 
p.  51).  He  frequented  Tom's  Coffee  House,  No.  17  Russell 
Street,  Covent  Garden  (see  Gibber,  p.  55),  'the  Bedford 
under  the  Piazza,  Covent  Garden'  (see  Churchill,  p.  51), 
and  'George's  in  the  Strand,'  which  stood  at  No.  213 
Strand,  near  Essex  Street  and  opposite  the  New  Law  Courts. 


1642-1727]  SIR   ISAAC   NEWTON.  227 

The  George  Tavern   was  erected  on  its  site  in  1868   (see 
Shenstone). 

He  was  fond  of  going  to  The  Doves  (still  a  tavern  in 
1885),  at  the  entrance  to  the  Upper  Mall,  Hammersmith, 
near  his  own  house,  and  at  the  end  of  Hammersmith 
Bridge  (see  Thomson). 


SIR  ISAAC   NEWTON. 

1642-1727. 

"\T  EWTON  seems  to  have  seen  little  or  nothing  of  London 
^  ^  until  he  was  sent  to  Parliament  by  the  University  of 
Cambridge  in  1689,  when  he  lodged  'at  Mr.  More's  house 
in  the  Broad  Sanctuary  at  the  west  end  of  Westminster 
Abbey.'  Here  he  first  met  John  Locke.  In  1693,  during 
a  short  stay  in  town,  he  wrote  a  letter  from  '  The  Bull  at 
Shoreditch,'  an  inn  not  mentioned  by  Stow,  Nicholson,  or  in 
the  '  History  of  Shoreditch,'  and  to  be  found  on  no  old  map. 

In  1697,  when  appointed  Warden  of  the  Mint,  he  took 
a  house  in  Jermyn  Street,  St.  James's  Street,  where  he  re- 
mained until  he  went  to  Chelsea  in  1709.  In  October,  1710, 
he  removed  to  the  house  afterwards  numbered  35  St.  Martin 
Street,  Leicester  Square,  whei-e  he  lived  for  fifteen  years  and 
completed  the  second  and  third  editions  of  his  *  Principia.' 
The  house  was  still  standing  in  1885,  and  was  occupied  by 
the  Sunday  school  of  the  Orange  Chapel,  next  door.  It  is 
marked  by  the  tablet  of  the  Society  of  Arts  (see  Mme. 
D'Arblay,  p.  73). 

After  Sir  Isaac  Newton  took  up  his  residence  in  London,  he 
lived  in  a  very  handsome  style,  and  kept  his  carriage,  uj-p^vster's 
with  an  establishment  of  three  male  and  three  female  i^'f*^  "f 

Newton, 

servants.     In  his   own   house  he  was  hospitable   and  chap.  xix. 


228  SIR   ISAAC  NEWTON.  [1642-1727. 

kind,  ami  on  proper  occasions  he  gave  splendid  entertainments, 

though  without  ostentation  or  vanity.     His  own  diet  was  frugal, 

and  his  dress  was  always  simple. 

It  was  here  [St.  Martin's  Street]  that  the  anti(|uary  Dr.  Stukely 

called  one  day  by  appointment.     The  servant   who  opened   the 

door  said  that  Sir  Isaac  was  in  his  studv.     No  one  was 
Walfoid's  .  -        . 

Old  ami  New  permitted  to  disturb   hiiu   there  ;  but  as  it  was  near 

vol.  ill.'         tiis  dinner-time  the  visitor  sat  down  to  wait  for  him. 

p.  172.  jj^  ^  short  time  a  boiled    chicken    under  cover  was 

brought  in  for  dinner.     An   hour  passed,  and  Sir  Isaac  did  not 

appear.     The   doctor  then    ate   the  fowl,   and,  covering  up  the 

empty  dish,  desired  the  servant  to  get  another  dressed  for  his 

master.     Before  that  was  ready,  the  great  man  came  down.     He 

apologized  for  his  delay;  and  added  :  *  Give  me  but  leave  to  take 

my  short  dinner,  and  I  shall  be  at  your  service.     I  am  fatigued 

and   faint.'     Saying  this,  he  lifted   up  the   cover,  and   without 

emotion  turned  about  to  Stukely  with  a  smile.     '  See,'  he  said, 

'  what  we  studious  people  are  ;  I  forgot  that  I  had  dined.' 

Newton  died  in  what  was  then  known  as  Pitt's  Buildings, 
Kensington,  on  the  southeast  side  of  Campden  Hill.  His 
house,  afterwards  called  Orbell's  Buildings,  was  for  a  time 
known  as  Newton  House.  In  1885  it  was  at  the  north  end 
of  Bullingham  House,  and  formed  a  portion  of  Kensington 
College,  the  entrance  to  which  was  at  No.  15  Pitt  Street. 
The  gardens  and  the  house  were  intact.  A  rear  entrance 
next  to  the  old  George  Tavern,  Church  Street,  near  Campden 
Grove,  and  in  the  stable-yards  to  the  inn,  had  but  lately 
been  closed. 

He  went  into  London  and  presided  at  the  Royal  Society  for 
the  last  time  on  the  2d  of  March,  1727.  The  fatigue  brought 
on  a  paroxysm  of  his  complaint.  He  lingered  in 
Taylor's  much  pain,  affectionately  tended  by  his  beloved  niece 
s^'iiare^'^  •  •  •  *^^^  ^^^  morning  of  Monday  the  20th,  when  he 
died,  in  the  eighty-fifth  year  of  his  age,  —  the  highest 
of  all  human  intelligence,  till  now. 


SIR    ISAAC    NEWTON. 


1651-1685.]  THOMAS   OTWAY.  229 

The  Royal  Society,  dmnng  Newton's  presidency  and  for 
many  yeai's  afterwards,  met  in  a  house  in  Crane  Court: 
Fleet  Street.  On  its  site  was  a  modern  but  picturesque 
turreted  red  brick  building  occupied  by  the  Scottish  Coi^ 
poration  in  1885. 

On  March  28,  1727,  the  body  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  after  lying- 
in  state  ill  the  Jerusalem    Chamber,  where  it  had  been  brought 
from    his    death-bed    in    Kensington,    was    attended  ^-^^^^^ 
hv  the  leading  members  of  the    Royal  Society,   and  Stanley's 

u  CD  V  V  WcstiiiiiistiGr 

buried  at  the  pubhc  cost  in  the  spot  in  front  of  the  Abbey, 
choir,  which,  being   one   of  the  most  conspicuous  in  '^'"'l^-  '^• 
the  Abbey,  had  been  previously  refused  to  various  noblemen  who 
had  applied  for  it. 

Sir  Isaac,  after  the  meetings  of  the  Royal  Society,  is 
known  to  have  visited  the  Grecian,  Devereux  Court,  Strand, 
on  the  site  of  the  present  Eldon  Chambers  (see  Addison, 
p.  7). 


THOMAS   OTWAY. 

1G51-1685 

T^XCEPT  that  Otway's  life  in  London  was  generally 
"*— '  disreputable,  little  is  recorded  of  it.  The  low  ale- 
house in  which  he  perished  miserably  is  the  only  spot  men- 
tioned as  being  in  any  way  positively  associated  with  him, 
and  only  the  name  of  that  is  known  now.  His  first  and 
last  appearance  upon  the  stage  as  a  player  was  made  in  the 
Dorset  Garden  Theatre,  Salisbury  Court,  Fleet  Street,  in 
1672.  It  stood  behind  the  present  Salisbury  Square,  and 
between  Hutton  Street,  formerly  Wilderness  Lane,  Dorset 
Street,  and  the  Thames.  Dorset  Street  and  Dorset  Build- 
ings perpetuate  its  name. 


230  THOMAS  OTWAY.  [1651-1685. 

In  this  play  [The  Jealous  Bridegroom]  Mr.  Otway,  the  poet, 

having  an  inclination  to  turn  actor,  Mr.  Behn  gave  him 

Rosr.ius  the  KiiKj  in    the  play  tor  a  probation  part  ;  but  he, 

Anghcimis,    ]jgij,g  jjyj  ^j;g^i  {^^  tj^  stage,  the  full  house  put  him  to 

such  a  sweat  and  tremendous  agony,  that  being  dash't 

spoilt  him  for  an  actor. 

Dryden  and  Otway  were  contemporaries,  and  lived,  it  is  said, 
for  some  time  opposite  each  other  in  Fetter  Lane.  One 
Walford's  morning  the  latter  happened  to  call  upon  his  brother 
Old  and  New  jj^rd  about  breakfast-time,  but  was  told  by  his  ser- 

London,  ,        ,  .  i         i  i-  •  i       i 

vol.  i.  vant  that  his  master  was  gone  to  breakiast  with  the 

chap.  viii.       j,.^^.^  ^^.  pejjji3i.oi^e_     i  Very   well,'    said   Otway,   '  tell 

your  master  that  I  will  call  to-morrow  morning.'  Accordingly  he 
called  about  the  same  hour.  '  Well,  is  your  master  at  home  now] ' 
'No,  sir,  he  is  just  gone  to  breakfast  with  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham.'    '  The  d 1  he  is  ! '  said  Otway  ;  and,  actuated  either  by 

envy,  pride,  or  disappointment,  in  a  kind  of  involuntary  manner 
he  took  up  a  piece  of  chalk  which  lay  on  a  table  and  wrote  over 

the  door,  — 

'  Here  lives  Dryden,  a  poet  and  a  wit.' 

The  next  morning  Dryden  recognized  the  handwriting,  and 
told  the  servant  to  go  to  Otway  and  desire  his  company  to  break- 
fast with  him  ;  in  the  mean  time  to  Otway's  line  of 

'  Here  lives  Dryden,  a  poet  and  a  wit,' 
he  added,  — 

'  Tliis  was  written  by  Otway,  opposit.' 

When  Otway  arrived  he  saw  this  line  linked  with  a  rhyme,  and, 
being  a  man  of  rather  petulant  disposition,  he  took  it  in  dudgeon, 
and,  turning  upon  his  heel,  told  Dryden  he  was  welcome  to  keep 
his  wit  and  his  breakfast  to  himself. 

Otway's  house,  if  he  did  live  in  Fetter  Lane,  —  which  is 
merely  traditional,  —  must  have  been  opposite  the  house 
said  to  have  been  occupied  by  Dryden,  and  in  the  grounds 
of  the  present  Record  Office  (see  Dryden,  p.  93). 

Otway  died  on  the  14th  of  April,  1685. 


^YILI.IAM    PEXX. 


1644-1718.]  WILLIAM  PENN.  231 

Having  been  compelled  by  his  necessities  to  contract  debts,  and 
hunted,  as  is  supposed,  by  the  terriers  of  the  law,  he  retired  to 
a  public   house  on  Tower   Hill,  where   he  is  said  to 
have  died  of  want  ;  or,  as  is   related  by   one  of  his  LheTof  tie 
biographers,  by  swallowing,  after  a  long  fast,  a  piece  ^°'^*.*  • 
of  bread  which  charity  had  supplied.     He  went  out, 
as  is  reported,  almost  naked,  in  a  rage  of  hunger,  and,  finding  a 
gentleman  in  a  neighboring  coffee-house,  asked  him  for  a  shilling. 
The   gentleman   gave   him  a  guinea  ;  and    Otway,  going  away, 
bought  a  roll  and  was  choked  by  the  first  mouthful.     All  this, 
I  hope,  is  not  true. 

If  Lee  died  tipsy  outside  a  public  house,  Otway  died   Koran's 
half-starved  within  one,  at  the  Bull  on  Tower  Hill.         the  stage. 

Otway  had  an  intimate  friend,  who  was  shot ;  the 
murderer  fled  toward  Dover,  and  Otway  pursued  him.  i^iecdot^es  • 
On  his  return  he  drank  w^ater  when  violently  heated,  John  Dennis, 

^  ^       r  1-1  7-,,n,.  section  i. 

and  so  got  a  lever,  which  was  the  death  of  him.  i72S-it30. 

There  is  no  sign  of  the  Bull  to  be  found  on  Tower  Hill 
now,  and  the  exact  site  of  Otway's  tavern  is  unknown. 

He  was  buried  in  the  churchyard  of  St.  Clement  Danes, 
April  16,  1685.     No  stone  marks  the  spot. 


WILLIAM   PENN. 

1644-1718. 

"\  1  riLLIAM  PENN  was  born  in  his  father's  house  'upon 

Great  Tower   Hill,  on   the   east  side,    with   a   court 

adjoining  to  London  Wall.'     Part  of  old  London  Wall  was 

still  to  be  found  in  188.5,  back  of  the  Tower  Station  of  the 

Underground  Railway,  and  in  the  identical  court  which  once 

contained  this  house.     According  to  Robert  J.  Burdette,  in 

bis  Life  of  Penn,   'he  was  not  born  with   his  hat  on,    but 

this  is  the  only  time  he  was  ever  seen  in  his  bare  head.' 
22 


232  SAMUEL  PEPYS.  [1632-33-1703. 

Venn  received  his  early  education  at  C!liig\vell  Grammar 
School,  about  ten  miles  from  London ;  and  here,  as  he 
expresses  it,  the  '  Lord  first  appeared  to  him,'  when  he  was 
about  twelve  years  of  age.  These  visitations  were  repeated 
afterwards  in  liis  father's  house,  and  at  a  private  school 
he  attended  on  Tower  Hill.  He  went  to  Christ  Church, 
Oxford,  at  the  age  of  fifteen.  After  his  suspension  from 
college  and  a  tour  of  two  years  on  the  C(jntinent,  he  was 
entered  as  a  student  in  Lincoln's  Inn.  During  his  stormy 
life  in  Loudon,  before  and  after  he  carried  his  colonization 
schemes  into  effect,  he  lived  with  his  various  Quaker  friends 
when  he  was  not  confined  in  Newgate,  the  Tower,  where  he 
wrote  '  No  Cross,  No  Crown,'  or  'within  the  rules  of  the  Fleet,' 
composing  the  while  innumerable  pamphlets,  and  preaching 
in  the  various  Friends'  meeting-houses  of  the  metropolis. 

Penn  is  said  to  have  occupied  the  house  '  on  the  south- 
west corner  of  Norfolk  Street,  Strand,  the  last  house  in  the 
street  and  overlooking  the  river,'  on  the  site  of  which,  No. 
21  Norfolk  Street,  was  the  Arundel  Hotel  in  188.5.  And 
he  is  known  to  have  lived  at  one  time  at  Teddinoton,  on  the 
left  bank  of  the  Thames,  near  Twickenham." 

He  was  buried  at  Chalfont,  Bucks. 


SAMUEL  PEPYS. 

1632-33-1 703. 

'T^HE  fixmous  gossip  was  l)oni  on  the  23d  of  Februarv, 
1032-33,  but  whether  at  Brompton,  near  Huntingdon, 
where  his  father  had  a  small  pi'operty,  or  in  London,  cannot 
now  be  determined.  He  was  familiar  with  the  metropolis  in 
his   childhood,  but   it  is  certain  that  he  went  to  school  at 


1632-33-1703.]  SAMUEL  PEPYS.  233 

Huntingdon  before  he  entered  Paul's  School  in  London  (see 
Milton,  p.  211). 

To   Paul's   Schoole,  it  being  apposition  day  there.     I  heard 
some  of  their  speeches  and   they  were  just  as  school  p^py^.g 
boys  used  to  be,  of  the  seven  liberal  sciences,  but   I  i^iary,  Feb. 

•^  ...  4,  1662-63. 

think  not  so  good  as  our  s  were  in  our  tune. 

Pepys  was  married  in  the  Church  of  St.  Margaret,  West- 
minster, on  the  1st  of  December,  1655,  and  in  the  register 
is  described  as  '  Samuel  Peps  of  this  parish,  Gent.'  This 
spelling  of  his  name,  together  with  that  of  the  register  of 
St.  Olave's,  Hart  Street,  recording  his  death,  —  '  Samuel 
Peyps,  Esq.,'  —  may  settle  the  point  of  its  proper  pro- 
nunciation. 

Pepys,  at  the  time  of  the  opening  of  his  Diary,  1659-60, 
was  living  in  Axe  Yard,  on  the  west  side  of  King  Street, 
Westminster. 

I  lived  in  Axe  Yard,  having  my  wife,  and  servant  Diary, 
Jane,  and  no  other  in  the  family  than  us  three.  1659-60. 

At  Westminster  by  reason  of  rain  and  an  easterly  wind,  the 
water  was  so  high  that  there  was  boats  rowed  in  King  ^j^^^ 
Street,  and  all  our  yard  was  drowned,  that  one  could  March  20, 

i_       T 1       1660. 

not  get  to  my  house,  so  as  no  man  has  seen  the  like 
almost,  and  most  houses  full  of  water. 

Axe  Yard,  afterwards  called  Fludyer  Street,  is  now  cov- 
ered by  the  Public  Offices  (see  Davenant,  p.  75).  King 
Street  at  one  time  extended  to  Charing  Cross,  through  the 
grounds  of  the  Palace  of  Whitehall. 

In  June,  1660,  Pepys  took  possession  of  a  house  belonging 
to,  and  adjoining,  the  Navy  Office  in  Seething  Lane. 

Up  early  and  with  Commissioner  Pett  to  view  the  houses  in 
Seething  Lane,  belonging  to  the  Navy,   where  I  find 
tlie  worst  very  good,  and  had  great  feares  they  will  4^'i66o. 
shuffle  me  out  of  them,  which  troubles  me. 

This  morning  we  met  at  the  office.  I  dined  at  my  Diary,  June 
house  in  Seethin"  Lane  ' 


234  SAMUEL  PEPTS.  [1632-33-1703. 

While  Pepys  was  clerk  in  the  Navy  Office  he  made  marks 
which  are  not  yet  eft'aced.  To  this  day  rules  and  regulations 
of  his  devising  are  in  force  at  the  Admiralty,  and  documents 
are  issued  to  the  fleet  of  Victoria,  on  plans  formed  by  Pepys. 

Seething  Lane  was  spared  by  the  Great  Fire,  but  contains 
now  no  houses,  seemingly,  as  old  as  the  reign  of  James  IT. 
.It  runs  from  Crutched  Friars  to  Great  Tower  Street ;  and 
the  old  Navy  Office,  which  was  removed  in  1788,  stood  on 
the  east  side  of  the  Lane,  with  its  chief  entrance  on  Crutched 
Friars. 

From  a  *  Certificate '  of  the  clergyman  of  the  Church  of 
St.  Olave,  Hart  Street,  preserved  in  the  Bodleian  Library, 
Oxford,  and  quoted  in  full  by  Lord  Braybrooke  in  his 
'Memoii''  attached  to  the  'Diary  and  Correspondence  of 
Samuel  Pepys,'  it  seems  that  Pepys  lived  in  this  parish, 
probably  in  one  house,  for  thirteen  years  (1G60-1G73),  'dur- 
ing which  time  the  said  Mr.  Pepys  and  his  whole  family 
were  constant  attendants  upon  the  public  worship  of  God 
and  his  holy  ordinances,'  and  that  'his  Lady  received  the 
Holy  Sacrament  from  my  hands  according  to  the  rites  of  the 
Church  of  England  upon  her  death-bed,  few  houres  before 
her  decease,  in  the  year  1669.'  It  would  also  seem  from 
the  same  document,  dated  May  22,  1G81,  that  even  after 
Pepys  removed  from  the  parish  'he  continued  to  receive 
the  Holy  Communion  with  the  inhabitants  thereof 

In  1684  Pepys  lived  in  Buckingham  Street,  Strand,  His 
house  '  over  against '  Peter  the  Great's  was  on  the  west  side 
of  Buckingham  Street,  No.  14,  at  the  end  of  the  street  and 
overlooking  York  Gate  (see  Bacon,  p.  12).  It  has  been 
rebuilt. 

In  1700  he  removed  to  Claoham,  under  the  advice  of  his 
physician,  where,  on  the  26th  of  May,  1703,  he  died.  No 
trace  of  his  house  remains.  It  was  taken  down  in  the 
middle  of  the  eighteenth  century. 


1632-33-1703.J  SAMUEL  PEPYS.  235 

Sept.  23.  —  I  went  to  visit  Mr.  Pepys  at  Claphani  where  he  has 
a  very  noble  and  wonderfully   well   furnished   house, 
especially  with    Indian  and   Chinese  curiosities  ;    the  Diary,  1700. 
othces  and  gai'dens  well  accommodated  for  retirement. 

Pepys  was  buried  by  the  side  of  his  wife,  *  in  a  vault  by 
ye  Communion  Table,'  in  the  Church  of  St.  Olave,  Hart- 
Street,  at  the  junction  of  Seething  Lane  and  Crutched 
Friars.  The  building  has  been  left  comparatively  untouched. 
Pepys  erected  an  elaborate  monument  to  his  wife,  with  her 
bust  and  an  inscription  in  elegant  Latin,  near  the  chancel. 
A  memorial  to  Pepys  himself  in  this  church  was  unveiled  in " 
1884  by  James  Russell  Lowell.  It  is  on  the  south  wall, 
near  the  little  door  by  which  he  was  wont  to  enter  the 
gallery,  ascending  from  the  churchyard  by  an  outside  stair- 
case ;  but  gallery,  staircase,  and  door  have  all  disappeared. 
On  the  bottom  of  this  tablet  are  the  words  'Erected  by 
Public  Subscription,  1883;'  and  Pepys  in  bas  relief  is  now 
looking  towards  the  monument  to  his  wife. 

In  1677  Pepys  was  elected  Master  of  the  Cloth  workers' 
Company,  and  left  it  a  silver  cup,  which  is  carefully  pre- 
served. The  new  hall  of  the  Cloth  workers,  built  in  1860, 
stands  upon  the  site  of  the  old  hall,  on  the  east  side  of 
Mincing  Lane,  a  few  doors  from  Fenchurch  Street.  In  1684 
he  was  elected  President  of  the  Royal  Society,  which  met  in 
his  day  in  Arundel  House,  in  the  Strand,  marked  now  by 
Arundel  Street ;  and  in  Gresham  College,  which  then  stood 
on  the  east  side  of  Old  Broad  Street,  half-way  between 
Wormwood  and  Threadneedle  Streets,  as  shown  in  a  map 
printed  by  Stow.  It  was  taken  down  in  the  middle  of  last 
century.  Gresham  House,  No.  22  Old  Broad  Street,  stands 
upon  its  site.  Gresham  College,  on  the  northeast  corner  of 
Gresham  and  Basinghall  Streets,  is  of  much  later  date. 

In  1679-80  Pepys  was  confined  in  the  Tower  npon  a 
charge  of  Popeiy  and  Treason,  and  in    1690  he  was   sent 


236  yAMUKL  riorvy.  [1032-33-1703. 

for  a  short   time  to  the  Gate  House  at  Westiuinster  (see 
BUKKE,  p.  27). 

A  list  of  the  Loudon  taverns  frequented  by  Pepys  would 
simply  be  a  list  of  all  the  taverns  in  London  in  Pepys's  day. 

hordes  Lay.  — Met  with  Purser  Washington,  with  whom  and  a 

Diary,  July    hidy,  a  friend   of  liis,  I  dined  ut  the  Bell  Tavern  in 

'•  '''""•  King   Street  [Westminster]  ;   but   the   rogue   had   no 

more  manners  than  to  invite  me  and  to  let  me  pay  my  club. 

^.       „    ,         To  the  Mitre  in  Wood  Street.     Here  some  of  us  fell 
Diary,  Sept. 

IS,  1660.         to  handicap,  a  sport  that  I  never  knew  before. 

The  Mitre  in  Wood  Street  was  destroyed  in  the  Great 
Fire  of  1666.  Mitre  Court  lies  between  Wood,  Greshara, 
Milk  Streets,  and  Cheapside.  He  frequented  also  the  Mitre 
in  Fenchurch  Street,  likewise  a  victim  to  the  Great  Fire,  but 
soon  after  rebuilt.  Its  site  is  marked  by  Mitre  Chambers, 
No.  157  Fenchurch  Street. 

Still  another  Mitre  of  Pepys's  was  that  in  Fleet  Street 
near  Temple  Bar  see  (Johnson,  p.  169). 

A  favorite  tavern  of  his  was  the  Leg,  in  King  Street, 
Westminster,  which  at  that  time,  as  has  been  shown,  extended 
through  the  precincts  of  Whitehall  Palace  to  Charing  Cross. 

With  Mr.  Creed  and  More  to  the  Leg  in  the  Palace  to  dinner, 

Diarv  Apr     ""'l"ch  I  gave  them,  and  after  dinner,  I  saw  the  girl  of 

6, 1661.  the  house,  being  verj'^  pretty,  go  into  a  chamber,  and  I 

went  in  after  her  and  kissed  her. 

This  mornin"  going  to  my  father's  I  met  him,  and  so 
Diary  o  t>       n  j  ^  ' 

June  21,        he  and  I  went  and  drank  our  morning  draft  at  Sam- 
^^^-  son's,  in  Paul's  Church  Yard. 

Of  the  Dolphin,  '  near  my  house,'  which  was  then  in 
Seething  Lane,  no  trace  is  left ;  and  no  hint  is  given  as  to 
its  site. 

At  noon  with  my  wife  by  appointment,  to  dinner  at  the  Dol- 
phin, with  Sir  W-  Batten,  and  his  lady  and  daughter  Matt,  and 
Captain   Cook  and  his  lady,  a  German  lady  but  a  very  great 


1G32.33-1703.]  SAMUEL  PEPYS.  287 

beauty,  and  we  dined  together,  at  the  spending  of  some  wagers 
won  and  lost  between  liini  and  I  ;  and  then  we  had  the  best 
musique  and  very  good  songs,  and  were  very  merry  and  -Qi^jy  j^t^^, 
danced.  Bnt,  after  all  our  mirth  conies  a  reckoning  22,  I66I. 
of  £4,  besides  4s  of  the  musicians  which  did  trouljle  us,  but  it 
must  be  paid  and  so  I  took  mj^  leave  and  left  them  there  about 
eight  o'clock. 

We   all   went   to   tlie   Three    Cranes    Tavern,    and  Diaiy,  Jan. 
though   the  best  room  in  the  house  is  such  a  narrow  ^^'  ^♦'^^■QS. 
dogg-hole  that  it  made  me  loath  my  company  and  victuals,  and  a 
sorry  poore  dinner  it  was,  too. 

This  was  probably  the  Three  Cranes  in  the  Viutry,  in 
Queeu  Street,  Upper  Thames  Street. 

In  Covent  Garden  to-night  going  to  fetch  home    my    wife,  I 
stopped  at  the  Great  Coflfee  House  there,  where  I  never  ^^       ^^^ 
was  before  .  .  .  and  had  I  had  time  then,  or  could  at  3, 1663-64. 
other  times,  it  will  be  good  coming  thither,  for  tliere  I  perceive 
is  very  witty  and  pleasant  discourse. 

This  was  Will's  Coffee  House,  in  Eussell  Street,  Covent 
Garden,  corner  of  Bow  Street  (see  Addison,  p.  7). 

He  also  frequented  the  Fleece  Tavern  in  Covent  Garden, 
where  on  one  occasion  he  '  staid  till  late,  very  merry.'  It 
stood  on  the  corner  of  York  Street  and  Brydges  Street, 
afterwards  Catherine  Street. 

To  a  little  ordinarv  in  Hercules'  Pillars  Alley,  the  Diary, 

Crowne,  a  poor  sorry  place  and  there  dined  and  had  a  1666-67. 
good  dinner. 

At  noon  my  wife  came  to  me  at  my  tailor's  and  I  Y^^^y,'^ 

■^  ''  April  30, 

sent  her  home,  and  myself  and  Tom  dined  at  Hercules'  1669. 
Pillars. 

Hercules'  Pillars  Alley  was  on  the  south  side  of  Fleet 
Street,  near  St.  Dunstan's  Church.  In  Strype's  time,  —  be- 
ginning of  the  eighteenth  century,  —  this  street  was  almost 
entirely  'given  up  to  such  as  keep  publick  houses.'  It  has 
been  built  over  for  many  years. 


238  SAMUEL   I'EPYS.  [1632-33-1703. 

To  the  Cock  in  Fleet  Street,  No.  201,"  and  to  the  Cock 
in  Suffolk  Street,  llaymarket,  of  which  hitler  now  no  trace 
is  left,  he  often  went  with  his  wife,  Mrs.  Knipp,  and  other 
ladies  of  his  acquaintance. 

Diary,  Thence   by  water   to  the  Temple  and  there  to  the 

1668^  ^^*        Cocke  Alehouse  and  drank  and  eat  a  lobster  and  sang 

and  were  mighty  merry. 
Did  walk  to  the  Cock  at  the  end  of  Suffolke  Street,  where  I 

never  was,  a  great  ordinary  miglitily  cried  up,  and 
March  16,       therti    bespoke   a  pullet  and  while  dressing  he  and  I 

walked  into  St.  James's  Park,  and  thence  back  and 
dined  very  handsome,  with  a  good  soup  and  a  pullet  for  4s  6c?, 
the  whole. 

On  the  17th  of  January,  1659-60,  he  writes:  'I  went  to 
the  Coffee  Club  and  heard  a  very  good  discourse,'  This  was 
the  Rota  Club,  which  met  at  the  Turk's  Head,  in  New 
Palace  Yard,  —  an  inn  that  has  long  since  disappeared. 

Pepys's  face  was  also  well  known  at  the  '  Beare  Inn, 
Southwark,  at  the  foote  of  London  Bridge.'  It  was  'op- 
posite the  end  of  St.  Olave's  Church  in  Tooley  Street,' 
and  was  taken  down  in  1761.  Other  places  of  his  re- 
sort were,  —  the  Blue  Bells,  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields ; 
Carey  House,  in  the  Strand,  near  the  Savoy  ;  the  Castle 
Tavern,  *  by  the  Savoy  near  Exeter  House,'  which  stood  in 
Bull  Inn  Court,  No.  407  Strand,  as  late  as  1846  ;  Chate- 
lines,  the  French  house,  in  Covent  Garden ;  the  Devil 
Tavern,  near  Temple  Bar  (see  Ben  Jonson,  p.  76) ;  the 
Goat  Tavern,  in  Charing  Cross ;  the  Golden  Eagle,  in  New 
Street,  between  Fetter  Lane  and  Shoe  Lane ;  the  Golden 
Lion,  near  Charing  Cross ;  the  Heaven  Tavern,  in  Lindsay 
Lane,  Westminster,  the  site  of  the  Committee  Rooms  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  —  '  went  to  Heaven  with  Sudlin,  and  I 
dined'  (Hell  and  Paradise  were  neighboi'ing  inns);  the 
King's  Head,  Fleet  Street,    opposite    Chancery  Lane ;   the 


1(332-33-1703.]  SAMUEL   rp:PYS.  239 

King's  Head  in  Tower  Street ;  the  King's  Head  opposite 
the  church  in  Islington ;  the  Pope's  Head  in  Chancery 
Lane ;  the  Pope's  Head  in  Pope's  Head  Alley,  running  from 
No.  18  Cornhill  to  No.  73  Lombard  Street  (this  was  in 
existence  as  late  as  175G);  the  Quaker,  in  the  Great  Sanc- 
tuary, Westminster,  on  the  site  of  which  the  Sessions  House 
was  built ;  the  Rhenish  Wine  House,  on  the  south  side  of 
Cannon  Eow,  Westminster  (see  Locke,  p.  197);  the  Rhenish 
Wine  House,  in  the  Steel  Yard,  Upper  Thames  Street,  on 
the  site  of  which  the  Cannon  Street  Station  has  been  built 
(the  Steel  Yard  lay  between  All  Hallows  Lane  and  Cousin 
Lane)  ;  the  Rose,  in  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden  (portions 
of  Drury  Lane  Theatre  stand  on  its  site) ;  the  Star,  in 
Cheapside  ;  the  Sun  in  King  Street,  Westminster ;  the  Sun 
'  behind  the  Exchange ; '  the  Sun  iu  New  Fish  Street  (Fish 
Street  Hill) ;  the  Sun  in  Chancery  Lane  ;  the  Swan  in  Old 
Fish  Street ;  the  Swan  in  Fenchurch  Street ;  the  Three 
Tuns,  '  in  Charing  Cross,'  —  probably  the  inn  of  that  name 
which  stood  on  the  site  of  No.  66  Bedford  Street,  Strand, 
near  the  corner  of  Chaudos  Street ;  the  White  Horse  Tavern, 
in  Lombard  Street ;  and  the  World's  End,  Knightsbridge,  — 
'  a  drinking  place  near  the  Park.' 

None  of  these  now  remain,  and  the  exact  site  of  many  of 
them  it  is  not  possible  to  discover.  Besides  the  foi-egoing, 
he  mentions  scores  of  taverns  by  name,  but  gives  no  hint 
as  to  where  they  stood. 


240  ALKXAXDKK   TOPE.  [1688-1744. 

ALEXANDER   TOPE. 

1688-1744. 

'T^IIAT  Pope  was  a  native  of  Loudon,  there  seems  to  be  no 
-^  question  ;  but  the  exact  spot  of  his  birth  has  never 
been  definitely  settled.  Johnson  says  his  father  was  a  linen- 
draper,  who  dwelt  in  the  Strand.  John  Tinibs  believes 
that  he  was  born  in  Old  Broad  Street,  in  the  parish  of  St. 
Bennet  Fink,  where  his  father  —  a  merchant,  not  a  trades- 
man—  had  his  abode  ;  but,  according  to  Sjjence,  — and  this 
is  the  generally  accepted  authority,  —  he  was  born  in  Plough 
Court,  Lombard  Street,  and  in  1688.  Plough  Court,  oppo- 
site No.  37  Lombard  Street,  contains  now  none  but  the  most 
modern  of  business  houses  ;  and  in  Old  Broad  Street  is  no 
building  dating  back  to  Pope's  time. 

Pope,  a  delicate  child,  was  never  thoroughly  well,  al- 
though he  lived  past  middle  age.  He  is  said  to  have 
inherited  his  crookedness  of  person  from  his  father,  and  his 
delicacy  of  constitution  and  fretfulness  of  temper  from  his 
mother,  who  was  a  victim  to  headaches.  Johnson  declares 
that  his  weakness  of  body  continued  through  life,  although 
the  mildness  of  his  mind  —  if  it  ever  was  mild  —  ended  with 
his  childhood. 

Pope  went  to  school  at  Marylebone,  and  afterwards  at 
Hyde  Park  Corner,  where  he  lisped  in  numbers.  Later  in 
life  his  address  "for  a  short  time  was  '  at  Mr.  Digby's,  next 
door  to  ye  Golden  Ball,  on  ye  second  terras  in  St.  James's 
Street ; '  and  a  letter  to  him,  extant,  is  addressed  to  '  Bridge- 
water  House  in  Cleveland  Court,  St.  James's.'  A  modern 
Bridgewater  House  was  built  upon  its  site  in  1845.  The 
pleasant  old  house  No.  9  Berkeley  Street,  Piccadilly,  opposite 
Devonshire  House,  is  said  to  have  been  a  home  of  Pope's. 


1     . 


ALEXANDER   POPE. 


16S8-1744.]  ALEXANDER  POPE.  241 

We  are  glad  to  be  able  to  point  out  the  site  of  the  London  resi- 
dence of  the  great  poet  Pope.     He  lived  at   one  time  at  No.  9 
Berkeley  Street,  close  to  his  friend  Lord  Burlington  ; 
and  it  was  here,  possibly,  in  1715,  on  the  eve  of  his  Lonfio^n 
departure  to  his  quiet  letreat  at  Twickenham,  that  he  pjocl'd'iu 
composed  his  '  Farewell  to  London.'     We  are  assured 
that  in  the  lease  of  tliis  house   the  name  of  Mr.  Alexander  Pope 
occurs  as   a  former  tenant.     From   the  poet  it  passed  into   the 
hands  of  General  Bulkley,  wlio  died  at  an  extreme  old  age.     A 
late  occupant  of  the  house  well  remembered  that  whenever  the 
General  visited  it  after  it  had  ceased  to  be  his  own,  it  was  his 
invariable  habit  to  observe,  with  an  air  of  respectful  interest,  'This 
is  the  house  Mr.  Alexander  Pope  lived  in.' 

Pope  is  believed  to  have  spent  a  year  or  two  at  Chisvvick, 
and  on  good  authority,  although  Faulkner  in  his  '  Chiswick,' 
does  not  mention  the  fact.  His  father,  dying  in  1717, 
was  buried  in  Chiswick  Churchyard  ;  and  portions  of  the 
Iliad,  it  is  said,  were  written  on  the  backs  of  letters  ad- 
dressed to  '  Mr.  Pope  at  his  house  in  ye  New  Buildings, 
Chiswick.'  New  Buildings,  afterwards  Mawson  Row,  a 
group  of  five  three-storied  red  brick  houses,  on  the  west 
side  of  Chiswick  Lane,  at  the  corner  of  Mawson  Lane,  and 
half-way  between  the  River  and  the  Manor  House,  were 
unaltered  in   1885. 

Pope  lived  at  the  famous  villa  at  Twickenham  for  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century,  and  died  there  in  1744. 

The  villa  —  or  villakin,  as  Swift  called  it  —  was  much  smaller 
when  Pope  took  it  than  when  he  left  it.     In  1717  it  comprised  only 
a  central  hall  with  two  small  parlors  on  each  side,  and 
corresponding  rooms  above.     He  left  it  a  brick  centre  H^°™.Book 
of  four  floors  with  wings  of  three  floors,  each  story  with  "''^^ 

^  ;  J  Environs  of 

a  single  light  towards  the  Thames.  .  .  .  After  Pope's  London : 
death    his   villa   was   sold  to  Sir   William    Stanhope,  ham. 
brother  to  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  who  added  wings  to 
the  house,  and  enlarged  and  improved  the  garden,  greatly  to  the 
disgust  of  Walpolc. 


242  ALEXANDER   POPE.  [1688-1744. 

This  house  was  destroyed  early  in  the  nineteenth  century. 
The  present  'Pope's  Villa'  (1885)  is  entirely  different  in 
character,  and  does  not  even  stand  on  the  site  of  the  original 
building.     The  Grotto,  however,  still  remains.^^ 

Pope  was  buried  in  a  vault  in  the  middle  aisle  of  Twick- 
enham Church,  near  the  cast  end  of  the  aisle. 

The  '  Essay  on  Man  '  is  said  to  have  been  written  at 
BolingVjroke  House,  Uattersea.  A  portion  of  the  west  wing 
of  this  building  was  standing  as  late  as  1885,  on  Mill 
Wharf,  Church  Road,  Battersea,  and  was  used  as  a  residence 
by  the  foreman  of  the  mill  of  Dives  &  Co.,  to  whom  the 
property  belonged,  the  carved  chimney-pieces  and  frescoed 
ceilings  remaining  intact.  On  the  front  of  the  witig  over- 
looking the  river  was  the  famous  cedar  room  in  which  Coling- 
broke  and  Pope  so  often  sat ;  the  floor,  walls,  and  ceiling  of 
cedar  still  as  redolent  as  a  century  and  a  half  before. 

Pope  was  also  a  frequent  visitor  of  Bolingbroke  at  Dawley 
Court,  in  Ilarlington,  Middlesex,  not  very  far  from  Twicken- 
ham. Only  one  wing  of  the  house  remains.  It  stands 
between  the  Great  Western  Bailway,  on  the  south,  and  the 
Grand  Junction  Canal,  on  the  north,  and  is  about  half  a 
mile  east  of  Hayes  Station  and  twelve  miles  from  Hyde 
Park  Corner. 

Pope's  taverns  were  the  Bedford,  in  the  Piazza,  Covent 
Garden  (see  Churchill,  p.  51);  the  Upper  Flask,  Hamp- 
stead  Heath  (see  Addison,  p.  9) ;  and  Slaughter's,  which 
stood  in  St.  Martin's  Lane,  three  doors  from  Newport  Street, 
but  was  taken  down  in  1 843,  when  Cranbourne  Street  was 
cut  througli  that  section  of  the  town  to  make  a  thorough- 
fare between  Coventry  Street  and  Piccadilly.  H.  R.  Haweis, 
in  his  chapter  on  Handel  in  his  '  Music  and  Morals,'  associ- 
ates Pope  with  another  inn  the  identity  of  which  is  not  very 
clear,  as  Regent  Street  did  not  exist  until  seventy-five  years 
after  Pope's  death.     He  says  :  — 


1688-1744.]  ALEXANDER   POPE.  243 

As  Handel  enters  the  '  Turk's  Head,'  at  the  corner  of  Regent 
Street,  a  noble  coach  and  four  drives  up.  It  is  the  Duke  of 
Chandos,  who  is  inquiring  for  Mr.  Pope.  Presently  a  deformed 
little  man  in  an  iron-gray  suit,  and  with  a  face  as  keen  as  a  razor, 
hobbles  out,  makes  a  low  bow  to  the  burly  Handel,  who,  helping 
him  into  a  chariot,  gets  in  after  him,  and  they  drive  off  together 
to  Cannons,  the  Duke's  mansion  at  Edgeware.  There  they  meet 
Mr.  Addison,  the  poet  Gay,  and  the  witty  Arbuthnot,  who  have 
been  asked  to  luncheon.  The  last  number  of  the  '  Spectator  '  lies 
on  the  table  ;  and  a  brisk  discussion  arises  between  Pope  and 
Addison,  concerning  the  merits  of  the  Italian  Opera,  in  which 
Pope  would  have  the  better  if  he  only  knew  a  little  more  about 
music,  and  could  keep  his  temper. 

Among  the  traditions  of  Will's  Coffee  House,  at  the  corner 
of  Bow  and  Eussell  Streets,  Covent  Garden  (see  Addison, 
p.  7),  is  one  to  the  effect  that  Pope  was  carried  there  in  his 
youth  to  see  and  worship  Dryden,  whose  works  he  even 
then  greatly  admired,  and  who  was  for  some  years  the 
autocrat  of  that  establishment.  As  Pope  was  born  in  1G88, 
and  as  Dryden  died  only  twelve  years  later.  Pope  could  have 
been  little  more  than  a  child  when  this  interview  took 
place,  if  it  took  place  at  all. 

Pope  was  a  member  of  different  clubs,  of  more  or  less 
renown. 

Whilst  deeply  engaged  in  his  translation  of  Homer,  Pope  fre- 
quently relaxed  from  his  labors   by  a   visit  to  town.  .  .  .  The 
dissensions  which  arose  amongst  the  ministers  before  „        , 
the  death  of  Queen  Anne,  and  which  Swift  strove  in  Life  of 

.,        ,       ,     .  1       ,  .  n     I         PopP)  1715. 

vain  to  reconcile,  had  interrupted  the  meetings  of  the  , 
political  societj'  called  the  October  Club  ;  but  another  associa- 
tion had  been  formed,  which  was  known  by  the  name  of  the 
Scriblerus  Club,  and  of  which  Swift,  Parnell,  Arbutlmot,  and 
Gay  were  members.  At  both  these  places  Pope  found  himself 
a  welcome  guest ;  and  as  temperance  and  regularity  were  not 
the   habits   of  the  times,  he  was  probably   led  into  indulgences 


244  KICIIARD  PORSON.  [1759-1808. 

inconsistent  no  less   Avith  Lis  ialinu  constitution  than  witli  liis 

usual   course   of  life. 

The  October  club  was  a  club  of  country  members  of 

hiini'slfand-  P'lrliinnent,  of  about  the  time  of  Queen  Anne,  about 

Book  of         ^^■^^Q  luuidred  and  fifty  in  numljer,  Tories  to  the  back- 

Loiulou  :  . 

October         bone.  .  .  .  They    met    at    the    Bell,   afterwards    the 

Crown,  in  King  Street,  Westminster. 

King  Street  originally  ran  from  Charing  Cross  to  the 
Palace  of  Westminster,  past  or  through  the  grounds  of  the 
Palace  of  Whitehall,  and  although  very  narrow  and  badly- 
paved,  was  the  chief  thoroughfare  between  the  two  points. 
The  formation  of  Parliament  Street  after  the  destruction  of 
Whitehall  in  1698  wiped  out  a  large  part  of  King  Street, 
and  the  new  Public  Offices  have  left  but  a  short  portion 
of  what  remained.  No  Crown  or  Bell  exists  to-day.  The 
Scriblerus  Club  had  no  proper  home  of  its  own,  but  met  at 
some  of  the  many  taverns  in  St.  James's  Street  or  Pall 
Mall. 


PJCHARD   PORSON. 

1759-1808. 

T)0RS0N'8  first  home  in  London,  when  he  arrived  from 
-*-  Cambridge  in  1791  or  1792,  was  at  No.  5  Essex  Court, 
Middle  Temple,  where  he  remained  for  some  years,  and 
where,  putting  out  his  candle  in  the  midst  of  a  prolonged 
debauch*  he  is  described  as  staggering  downstairs  to  relight 
it,  and  after  many  vain  attempts  uttering  his  famous  curse 
against  '  the  nature  of  things.' 

He  had  a  temporary  home,  when  he  chose  to  avail  him- 
self of  it,  in  the  house  of  his  friend  Perry,  in  Lancaster 
Court,  Strand.     According  to  some  authorities.  Person  was 


1759-1808.]  RICHARD  PORSON.  245 

married  in  1795  in  the  Church  of  St.  Martiu-in-the-Fields, 
although  no  record  of  such  marriage  is  to  be  found  there. 

In  1805  Porson  was  appointed  principal  Librarian  to  the 
London  Institution,  then  at  No.  8  Old  Jewry.  The  building 
was  destroyed  by  fire  in  1863,  and  banks  and  business 
offices  were  built  upon  its  site.  He  had  apartments  in  the 
Instituiton,  and  died  there  in  1808.  He  was  buried  in 
Cambridge. 

Among  his  places  of  bucolic  resort  were  the  African 
Coffee  House,  in  St.  Michael's  Alley,  —  a  short  passage  at 
the  side  of  St.  Michael's  Church,  Cornhill,  where  was,  in 
1885,  a  "West  Indian  but  no  African  Tavern  ;  and  the 
Turk's  Head,  No.   142  Strand  (see  Johnson,  p.  170). 

I  afterwards  used  to  meet  Porson  every  night  at  the   Turk's 

Head  in  the  Strand,  where  he  retained  his  devotion  to  ^  , 
'  _        John 

brandy  and  water,  and  often  tired  the  company  with  Taylor's 
his  recital  of  a  burlesque  parody  of  Pope's  exquisite  my  Life, 
poem  of  '  Eloisa  and  Abelard.' 

The  Cider  Cellar,  at  No.  20  Maiden  Lane,  near  Bedford 
Street,  Covent  Garden,  which  has  now  disappeared,  was  the 
spot  to  which  his  footsteps  more  frequently  and  more  fondly 
turned.  It  was  opposite  the  house  (No.  26  Maiden  Lane) 
in  which  Turner  the  painter  was  born  ;  and  the  Adelphi 
Club,  No.  21  A,  Maiden  Lane,  stood  on  its  site  in  1885.  It 
was  what  is  called  '  an  all-night  tavern,'  and  famous  for  its 
cider  ;  hence  its  name.  What  Porson  considered  one  of  the 
greatest  compliments  ever  paid  to  him  was  the  remark  of 
one  of  his  boon  companions  of  this  place,  that  '  Dick  can 
beat  us  all,  —  he  can  drink  all  night,  and  spout  all  day.' 
23 


246  MATTHEW   riilOR.  [1664-1721. 


MATTHEW   PRIOR 

1664-1721. 

T^HE  first  traces  of  Prior  in  London  are  at  the  Rummer 
Tavern,  kept  by  his  uncle,  and  described  by  Peter 
Cuiniingham  as  'a  famous  tavern  two  doors  from  Lockitt's, 
between  Whitehall  and  Charinj?  Cross,  removed  to  the 
water  side  of  Cliaring  Cross  in  1710,  and  burnt  down 
November  7,  1750.'" 

Lockitt's  Ordinary  stood  on  the  site  of  Drummond's 
Banking  House  in  Spring  Gardens,  and  in  an  old  map, 
dated  1734  and  published  in  Smith's  '  Antiquities  of  West- 
minster,' Rummer  Coui't,  unquestionably  the  site  of  the 
famous  hostelr}',  is  shown  to  have  been  situated  between 
Buckingham  Court  and  Cromwell  Place.  The  Ship  Tavern, 
at  No.  35  Charing  Cross,  with  an  entrance  into  Spring 
Gardens,  standing  in  1885,  is  a  direct  descendant  of  the 
Rummer. 

This  uncle  of  Prior,  into  whose  kindly  hands  he  fell 
when  his  father's  death  left  him  a  small  boy  without  home, 
sent  him  to  Westminster  School  (see  Churchill,  p.  51), 
under  Dr.  Busby,  and  after  giving  him  a  moderate  educa- 
tion there,  received  him  into  his  own  family  at  the  Rummer 
Tavern.  Here  he  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Earl  of 
Dorset,  who  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  lad  and  his  pro- 
ficiency in  the  classics  that  he  defrayed  the  expenses  of  his 
University  course. 

Prior's  London  home  was  in  '  Duke  Street,  Westminster, 
facing  Charles  Street.'  Duke  Street,  afterwards  called 
Delahay  Street,  has  been  greatly  changed  since  Prior's  day. 
Facing  Charles  Street  is  now  a  gate  of  St.  James's  Park,  and 


1664-1721.]  MATTHEW   PRIOK.  24T 

Charles  Street  itself  forms  the  southern    boundary  of  the 
new   Government  Buildings. 

On  July  30,  1717,  Prior  wrote  to  Swift  :  — 

I  have  been  made  to  believe  that  we  may  see  your  revered 
person  this  summer  in  En<j;land.     If  so, I  shall  be  idad 

^  ,  ,  ,  Works  of 

to  meet   you  at  any  pKace  ;    but  when   you   come  to  swift : 
London,  do  not  go  to  the  Cocoa  Tree,  but  come  imme-  encerin?" " 
diately  to  Duke   Street,  Avhere  you  shall  find  a  bed, 
a  book,  and  a  candle  ;  so  pray  think  of  sojourning  nowhere  else. 

Prior's  taverns  were  the  Cocoa  Tree,  in  St.  James's  Street 
(see  Addison,  p.  7) ;  the  Smyrna,  in  Pall  Mall,  the  site  of 
which  cannot  now  be  discovered  ;  the  Palsgrave  Head,  on 
Palsgrave  Place,  Strand,  between  Devereux  Court  and  Thanet 
Place,  since  entirely  removed  and  covered  by  the  modern 
Palsgrave  Restaurant,  No.  222  Strand  ;  and  the  Star  and 
Garter,  the  meeting-place  of  the  Brothers'  Club,  which  stood 
at  No.  44  Pall  Mall  on  the  north  side,  and  upon  the  site 
of  which  a  modern  public  house,  bearing  the  same  name, 
has  been  built. 

Prior  was  also  too  often  to  be  found  in  less  creditable 
society  and  in  less  reputable  neighborhoods.  Johnson 
shows  him  to  have  deserted  the  company  of  Bolingbroke, 
Pope,  and  Swift  in  order  to  smoke  a  pipe  and  to  drink  with 
a  common  soldier  and  his  wife  in  Long  Acre.  The  woman 
is  said  to  have  been  the  original  of  the  beautiful  '  Chloe  '  of 
his  poem ;  and,  according  to  Pope,  '  he  used  to  bury  himself, 
for  whole  days  and  nights  together,  with  this  poor,  mean 
creature.' 


248  BRYAN   WALLER   TROCTER.  [1787-1874. 


BRYAN   WALLER   PROCTER 

(BARRY   CORNWALL). 

1787-1874. 

"PROCTER  knew  nothing  of  London  until  1807.  In  "l816 
-*-  he  was  living  in  Brunswick  Square.  After  his  mar- 
riage in  1824  he  occupied  the  upper  part  of  a  house  in 
Southampton  Row,  not  far  from  Red  Lion  Square,  —  the 
scene,  at  that  time,  of  his  daily  labors  ;  but  in  the  next  year 
he  removed  to  the  house  of  Mi-,  and  Mrs.  Basil  Montague, 
No.  25  Bedford  Square,  on  the  north  side,  where  in  1825 
Adelaide  Procter  was  born. 

When  Adelaide  was  a  child  the  Procters  lived  '  in  a  little 
gothic  cottage  opposite  Sir  Edwin  Landseer's,  at  No.  5  Grove 
End  Road,  St.  John's  Wood.'  No  little  gothic  cottage  is 
standing  there  now  which  answers  this  description.  No.  5 
Grove  End  Road  was  called  Salisbury  House  in  1885,  but 
was  not  opposite  Sir  Edwin  Landseer's.  The  numbers  had 
not  been  changed  since  1840. 

Later,  and  for  a  number  of  years,  their  home  was  at 
No.  13  Upper  Harley  Street,  Cavendish  Square,  where  they 
entertained,  in  a  modest  but  delightful  way,  many  distin- 
guished men  and  women.  Upper  Harley  Sti-eet  has  since 
been  called  Hai-ley  Street,  and  renumbered.  The  Procters' 
house  still  stood  on  the  east  side,  but  was  numbered  38  in 
1885.  In  18G1  they  went  to  No.  13  Weymouth  Street,  Cav- 
endish Square,  where,  thirteen  years  later,  '  Barry  Coi'n- 
wall '  died.  He  was  buried  at  Finchley.  The  Weymouth 
Street  house  has  also  been  renumbered.  It  stood  on  the 
north  side,  near  Beaumont  Street. 


BRYAN    WALLER   PROCTER, 


STATE  NOBMALSCE. 

1  OS  AWEL'-S. -> '^ 


1552-1618.]  SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  249 

SIE   WALTER   RALEIGH. 

1552-1618. 

"D  ALEIGH  is  said  to  have  been  a  member  of  the  Middle 
Temple,  but  this  is  merely  traditional;  and  as  he  de- 
clared at  his  trial  that  he  had  never  read  a  word  of  law  until 
he  entered  the  Tower,  it  is  believed  that  he  had  no  connection 
with  the  Temple  as  a  student,  although  he  might  have 
lived  there  before  he  took  possession  of  Durham  House, 
which  was  his  town  residence  for  twenty  years.  It  stood 
between  the  Strand  and  the  Thames  ;  the  Adelphi  Terrace 
was  built  upon  its  river  front,  and  Durham  Street  perpetu- 
ates its  name.  It  was  taken  from  him  on  the  accession  of 
James. 

Durham  House  was  a  noble  palace.     After  he  [Raleigh]  came 
to  his  greatness  he  lived  there,  or  in  some  apartments  of  it.     I 
well  remember  his  study,  which  was  on  a  little  turret  ^ui^rgy's 
that  looked  into  and  over  the    Thames,  and  had  the  Lives  of 

Eminent 

prospect  which  is  as  pleasant,  perhaps,  as  any  in  the  Persons : 
world,  and  which  not  only  refreshes  the  eie-sight,  but  ° 

cheers  the  spirit  (and  to  speak  my  mind)  I  believe  enlarges  an 
ingeniose  man's  thouirhts. 


o^ 


Two  old  houses  at  Islington,  which  were  standing  at  the 
beginning  of  the  present  century,  had  traditional  associa- 
tions with  Raleigh.  These  were  the  Queen's  Head  Tavern, 
marked  by  Queen's  Head  Lane,  Islington,  and  the  Pied  Bull. 

The  old  Queen's  Head  ha.s  been  coupled  with  the  name  of  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh,  who  is  said,  if  not  to  have  built,  at  Lg^yj^'s 
least  to  have  patronized  and  frequented,   the  house  ;  ^1?*^°^'^^'^ 
and   from  the  circumstance  of  his  having  in  the  thir-  vol.  iv. 
tieth  year  of  Elizabeth's  reign  [1588]  obtained  a  patent  ^ 
'  to  make  lycenses  for  keepuig  of  taverns  and  retailing  of  wynes 


250  SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  [1552-1618. 

throughoul  Euglande,'  further  conjecture  has  been  luuurded  that 
this  was  one  of  the  houses  so  licensed  by  him,  and  that  the  sign 
of  the  Queen's  head  was  adopted  in  compliment  to  his  Royal 
Mistress. 

A  Queen's  Head  Tavern,  built  in  1830,  stood  in  1885  in 
Essex  Road,  on  the  corner  of  Queen's  Head  Street,  Isling- 
ton, on  the  site  of  Raleigh's  house. 

On  the  west  side  of  Chureli  Row,  near  Islington  Green,  at  the 
corner  of  a  footway  (now  closed  up  by  new  houses)  leading 
g.  .  .^  into  the  Back  Road,  was  recently  standing  [1829]  the 
Loiidoiiiaua,  Pied  Bull  Inn.  This  was  originally  a  country  villa, 
erected  probably  a  few  years  previous  to  the  decease  of 
Queen  Elizabeth ;  and,  according  to  a  long-current  tradition,  it 
was  once  the  residence  of  the  brave  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 

The  present  tenant  [1740]  of  the  Pied  Bull  Inn  affirms  that 
his  landlord  was  possessed  of  some  old  account  books,  by  which 
j^jj,^  ^j,  it  appears,  beyond  all  doubt,  this  house  and  fourteen 

Raieigb,        acres  of  land  now  let  at  about  £  70  per  annum,  did 

All  on 

London,        belong  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and  that  the  oldest  man 
in  this  parish  would  often  declare  that  his  father  had 
told  him  Sir  Walter  proposed  to  wall  in  that  ground  with  intention 
to  keep  some  of  his  horses  therein. 

According  to  the  parish  records,  *a  manservant  of  Sir 
Walter  Raylie  from  Mile  End'  was  buried  in  Stepney 
Church,  August  25,  159G,  from  which  it  is  inferred  that 
Raleigh  lived  at  that  time  in  the    parish. 

Raleigh's  first  experiences  of  the  Tower  were  in  1592, 
when  he  incurred  the  displeasure  of  Elizabeth  by  his  devo- 
tion to  one  of  her  ladies  of  honor,  Elizabeth  Throgmorton, 
whom  he  afterwards  married.  After  the  death  of  the  Virgin 
Queen  in  1603  he  was  sent  to  the  Tower  by  her  successor, 
where  he  was  confined  for  twelve  years.  Lady  Raleigh  was 
permitted  to  share  her  husband's  imprisonment  for  some 
time  ;  and  here,  in  1 G05,  their  son  Carew  was  born.  Raleigh 
is  thought  to  have  occupied  the  second  and  third  stories  of 


1552-1618.]  SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH.  251 

the  Beauchamp  Tower,  and  to  have  been  confined  in  the 
Bloody  Tower  and  the  Garden  House.  Here  he  studied 
chemistry,  and  discovered  the  cordial  to  which  his  name 
was  attached ;  wrote  several  works  upon  different  subjects ; 
and  published,  in  1G14,  his  'History  of  the  World.' 

Raleigh  passed  the  night  before  his  execution  in  the  Gate 
House,  Westminster  (see  Burke). 

A  cousin  of  his  coming  to  see  him,  Sir  Walter,  finding  him  sad, 
began  to   be  very  pleasant  with  him,  whereupon   Mr.    Thynne 
counselled   him  :    '  Sir,   take   lieed  you  goe   not  too 
muche  upon  the  brave  hande,  for  your  enemies  will  LifJof  ^^  ^ 
take  exceptions  at  that.'     '  Good  Charles,'  quoth  he,  ^q/®'^''' 
'  give  me  leave  to  be  merry  for  this  is  the  last  merri- 
ment that  ever  I  shall  have  in  this  worlde,  but  when  I  come  to 
the  last  parte,  thou  shalte  see  I  will  looke  on  it  like  a  man,'  and 
so  he  was  as  good  as  his  worde. 

He  was  beheaded  in  Old  Palace  Yard  on  the  29th  of  Octo- 
ber (Old  Style),  1G18.  Thomas  Birch,  in  a  sketch  of  Raleigh, 
prefixing  an  edition  of  his  works,  published  by  Dodsley  at 
the  Tully's  Head  in  Pall  Mall  in  1751  (see  Akenside,p.  11), 
gives  the  following  account  of  his  execution  :  — 

Then,  having  put  off  his  Gown  and  Doublet,  he  called  to  the 
Executioner  to  shew  him  the  Axe  ;  which  not  being  presently 
done,  he  said  :  '  /  prytlie  let  me  see  it.  Dost  thou  think  that  I  am 
afraid  of  it  ? '  And  having  it  in  his  Hands  he  felt  along  the 
Edge  of  it,  and  smiling  said  to  the  Sheriff,  '  This  is  a  Sharp  Medi- 
cine, hut  it  is  a  Physician  for  all  Diseases.'  Then  going  too  and 
fro  on  every  side  of  the  Scaft'old  he  desired  the  Company  to  pray 
to  God  to  assist  him,  and  strengthen  him.  The  Executioner, 
kneeling  down  and  asking  his  Forgiveness,  Sir  Walter,  laying  his 
Hand  upon  his  Shoulder  gi-anted  it  ;  and  being  ask't  which  Way 
he  would  lay  himself  on  the  Block,  he  answer'd,  '  So  the  Heart  be 
right  it  is  no  matter  which  Way  the  Head  lies.'  As  he  stoop'd  to 
lay  himself  along,  and  reclin'd  his  Head,  his  Face  being  towards 
the  East,  the  Executioner  spread  his  own  Cloak  under  him. 
After  a  little  Pause  he  gave  the  Sign  that  he  was  ready  for  the 


252  SAMUEL   RICHARDSON.  [1689-1761. 

Stroke,  by  lifting  up  his  Huml,  uud  his  Head  was  struck  oil'  Ly 
two  Blows,  his  Body  never  shrinking  nor  moving.  His  Head  was 
shewn  on  each  Side  of  the  Scaffold,  and  then  put  into  a  red 
Leather  Bag,  and  with  his  Velvet  Night  Gown  thiown  over,  was 
afterwards  conveyed  away  in  a  Mourning  Coach  of  his  Lady's. 
His  Body  was  interred  in  the  Chancel  of  St.  Margaret's  Church 
in  Westminster,  but  his  Head  was  long  preserv'd  in  a  case  by  his 
Widow,  who  surviv'd  him  twenty-nine  years,  and  after  her  Death 
by  his  Son  Carew,  with  whom  it  is  said  to  have  been  buried  at 
West  Horsley  in  Surrey. 

Seeing  a  dim  light  in  St.  Margaret's  Church  near  by,  I  entered 
the  old  temple,  and  found  the  boys  of  the  choir  at  their  rehearsal, 
■William  and  presently  observed  on  the  wall  a  brass  plate  which 
En''irsi'f  announces  that  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  was  buried  here  in 
Kambies :       the  chancel  after  being  decapitated  for  high-treason  in 

Old  . 

Churches  of  the  Palace  Yard  outside.  Such  things  are  the  sur- 
prises of  this  historical  capital,  —  the  exceeding  great 
reward  of  the  wanderei''s  devotion.  This  inscription  begs  the 
reader  to  remember  Raleigh's  virtues  as  well  as  his  faults, — 
a  plea,  surely,  that  every  man  might  well  wish  should  be  made  for 
him  at  last. ".  .  .  This  church  [St.  Margaret's,  Westminster]  con- 
tains a  window  commemorative  of  Raleigh,  presented  by  Americans, 
and  inscribed  with  these  lines  by  Lowell :  — 

'  The  New  World's  Sons,  from  England's  breast  we  drew 
Such  milk  as  bids  remember  whence  we  came  ; 
Proud  of  her  past,  wherefrom  our  future  grew, 
This  window  we  inscribe  with  Raleigh's  name.' 


SAMUEL   EICHAPtDSON. 

1689-1761. 

A  LTHOUGH  it  is  not  recorded  in  the  earlier  biogra- 
"^"^  phies  of  Richardson,  and  although,  strangely  enough, 
he  does  not  mention  the  fact  himself,  in  the  autobiographical 


1689-1761.]  SAMUEL   RICHARDSON.  253 

fragment  contained  in  one  of  his  published  letters,  Richard- 
son was  a  pupil  of  Christ-Hospital  (see  Coleridge,  p.  57). 
His  name  is  to  be  found  in  the  list  of  distinguished  '  Blues ' 
in  Staunton's  'Great  Schools  of  England.'  He  received 
here  '  only  common  school  learning ; '  and  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen, by  his  own  choice,  he  was  apprenticed  to  Mr.  John 
Wilde,  of  Stationers'  Hall,  a  printer,  with  whom  he  served 
seven  years.  After  the  expiration  of  his  time  he  worked  as 
a  compositor  for  five  or  six  years,  wdien  he  opened  an  estab- 
lishment of  his  own  in  the  centre,  and  later  in  the  north- 
west corner,  of  Salisbury  Court,  afterwards  Salisbury  Square, 
Fleet  Street,  where  he  lived  and  transacted  business  for 
many  years,  keeping  his  office  there  even  after  he  moved 
to  more  quiet  homes  in  the  suburbs  of  the  West  End  of 
London. 

The  Square  retains  now  none  of  the  features  familiar  to 
the  novelist,  or  to  Johnson,  Hogarth,  and  the  worthies  who 
were  so  often  his  guests  there. 

In  town  [1755]  he  took  a  range  of  old  houses,  eight  in  number, 
which  he  pulled  down,  and  built  an  extensive  and  commodious 
range  of  warehouses  and  printing-offices.      It  was  still 
in   Salisbury  Court,    in   the  northwest   corner,  but  it  ^[^'^fij'!^"' 
is  at  present  [1802]  concealed   by  other  houses  from  Life  of 
common  observation.     The   dwelling-house,  it  seems, 
was   neither  so  large   nor  so  airy  as   the    one  he   quitted.;  and 
therefore  the  reader  will  not  be  so  ready,  probably,  as  Mr.  Rich- 
ardson seems  to  have  been,  in  accusing  his  wife  of  perverseness 
in  not  liking  the  new  habitation  as  well  as  the   old.     'Every- 
body '  (he  says)   '  is  more   pleased  %vith  M-hat  I  have  done  than 
my  wife.' 

Portions  of  'Sir  Charles  Grandison'  are  believed  to  have 
been  written  in  Lovell's  Court,  opening  from  No.  1 9  Pater- 
noster Row,  which  in  later  years  was  devoted  entirely  to 
the  printing,  binding,  and  publishing  of  books. 


254  SAMUEL   IIICIIAKDSON.  [1689-1761. 


While  the  celebrated  Richardson,-  the  author  of  '  Grandison,' 
'  Clarissa,'  etc.,  was  living,  a  Mr.  Alderman  Brydges  had  a  dwell- 
„   .,, ,  in2;-house  and  handsome  garden  in  this  court,  which 

Aiitiiiuariaii    liaving  the  convenient'v  of  an  alcove,  Richardson,  as  a 
Loiulon!'        friend  to  the  alderman,  is  said  to  have  written  several 
of  his  works  in  this  retired  spot.     The  garden  has  been 
built  up  and  considerably  retrenched  during  some  years  past. 

No  trace  of  any  garden  in  LovcU's  Court  remains. 

Kichardson's  first  country  home  was  Selby  House,  after- 
wards called  The  Grange,  at  North  End,  Hammersmith.  It 
had  been  divided  into  two  mansions  even  in  Richardson's  time, 
one  of  which  in  1885  was  occupied  by  the  artist  Edward 
Burne-Jones  ;  and  it  stood  on  the  east  side  of  what  had 
lately  been  called  West  Kensington  Road,  opposite  Grove 
Terrace,  and  between  Hammersmith  Road  and  Edith  Villas. 
The  house  in  1885  was  little  changed,  and  much  of  Rich- 
ardson's garden  was  left  intact. 

He  lived  in  a  kind  of  flower-garden  of  ladies.  .  .  .  He  had 
generally  a  number  of  young  ladies  at  his  house,  whom  he  used 
to  engage  in  conversation  on  some  subject  of  sen- 
bauid's*''  timent,  and  provoke,  by  artful  opposition,  to  display 
rV^i-  the  treasures  of  intellect  they  possessed.  .  .  .  He  used 
to  write  in  a  little  sunnner-house  or  grotto  [at  North 
End],  as  it  was  called,  within  his  garden,  before  the  family 
were  up  ;  and  Avhen  they  met  at  breakfast  he  communicated  the 
progress  of  his  storj'',  which  by  that  means  had  every  day  a  fresh 
and  lively  interest.  ...  In  the  middle  of  the  garden,  over 
against  the  house,  we  came  to  a  kind  of  grotto,  where  we  rested 
oui'selves.  It  was  on  this  seat,  Mr.  Le  Fevre  told  me,  that 
'  Pamela,'  '  Clarissa,'  and  '  Grandison  '  received  their  birth  ;  I 
kissed  the  inkhorn  on  the  side  of  it. 

In  1755  he  removed  to  Parson's  Green,  Fulham. 

On  the  site  of  the  house  which  terminates  Pitt's  Place  [Parson's 
Green],  and  which  is  now  [1816]  occupied  as  an  academy  by  Dr. 
Taylor,  stood  an  ancient  mansion  whicli  formerly  belonged  to 
Sir  Edward  Saunders  in  1682.      The  building,  which  was  of  a 


SAMUEL    nOGERS. 


1763^1855.]  SAMUEL   ROGERS.  255 

venerable  character,  and  had  in  front  a  porch  with  seats  on  either 
side,  was  rendered  interesting  as  having  afforded  a  resi- 
dence to  Samuel  Richardson,  the  celebrated  novelist.  London  and 
Mr.  Richardson  removed   hither  from  North   End  in  ™'^^^®^''' 
1755,  and  is  said  to  have   here   written  his  novel   of 
*  Clarissa  Harlowe  ; '  but  that  work  was  really  published  in  1748. 

The  house  stood  on  the  south  side  of,  and  directly  facing, 
Parson's  Green,  between  Peterborough  House  (on  the  east) 
and  Cromwell  Lodge  (on  the  west).  On  the  site  of  its 
garden  stood,  in  1885,  Albyn  House  and  the  Duke's  Head 
Tavern.  No  trace  of  it  is  left,  and  the  character  of  the 
Green  has  entirely  changed. 

Richardson  died  of  apoplexy,  July  4,  1761,  in  this  house 
in  Parson's  Green,  and  was  buried,  at  his  own  request,  by 
the  side  of  his  first  wife,  in  the  Church  of  St.  Bride,  in 
Fleet  Street.  A  large  stone  in  the  pavement  of  the  mid- 
dle aisle,  near  the  centre  of  the  church,  and  by  the  side  of 
the  pews  numbered  12  and  13  in  1885,  records  the  fact 
that  he  lies  beneath  it.  The  parish,  during  the  century  or 
more  that  has  elapsed  since  his  death,  has  not  had  interest 
enough  in  the  Father  of  the  English  Novel  to  erect  a  tablet 
to  his  memory ;  and  the  stone  above  him,  placed  there  by 
the  loving  hands  of  his  family,  is  concealed  from  the  public 
by  the  coarse  matting  that  generally  covers  it. 


SAMUEL  ROGEES. 

1763-1855. 


A  LTHOUGH  Rogers  was  a  thorough  Londoner,  his  homes 
'^^    in  the   metropolis  were  very  few.     He  was  born   at 


Newington  Green  in  1763. 


256  SAMUEL   ROGERS.  [1763-1855. 

[Newington  Green]  is  built  round  with  houses  evidently  of  a 
consideraljle  aj^'c.  There  are  trees  and  (quietness  about  it  still 
AVilliam  [1845].     lu  the  centre  of  the  south  side  is  an  old  house, 

H.iwitt's        standing  back,  which  is  said  to  have  been  inhabited  by 

HiiiiH's  and  1 

u.iuiitsof      Henry  VIII.     At  the  end  next  to  Stoke  Newington 

Poets :  stands  an  old  Presbyterian  chapel,  at  which  the  cele- 

Rogers.  brated  Dr.    Price  preached,  and  of  which  afterwards 

the  husband  of  Mrs.  Barbauld  was  minister.     Near  this  chapel 

De  Foe  was   educated.     In  this  Green  lived,  too,  Mary  WoU- 

stonecraft,  being  engaged  with  another  lady  in  keeping  school. 

Samuel  Rogers  was  born  in  the  stuccoed  house  at  the  southwest 

corner,  which  is  much  older  than  it  seems.     Adjoining   it   is  a 

large  old  garden. 

.     .  ,  Rogers  was  born  in  the  first  house  that  presents  itself 

Islington,       on  the  west   side  [of  Newington   Greeni,  proceeding 
chap.  vii.         f  T,  11,     -p       1 

p.  321,  note,    from  Ball  s  Pond. 

This  house  is  no  longer  standing  ;  a  row  of  new  brick  shops 
occupies  its  site,  —  almost  the  only  modern  innovation  in 
188.5  in  the  old-fashioned,  respectable,  substantial  squai'e. 
The  Green  itself  was  still  enclosed  by  an  old  wooden  paling, 
and  few  of  its  surrounding  houses  bear  date  later  than  the 
early  part  of  the  present  century. 

In  1792,  while  living  here,  Rogers  published  his  'Pleas- 
ures of  Memory.'  He  left  this  neighborhood  about  the 
year  1795,  when  he  took  chambers  in  the  Temple,  which  he 
occupied  for  five  years. 

Rogers,  like  the  elder  D'Israeli,  aspired  to  lay  his  youth- 
ful poems  at  the  feet  of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  went  to  Bolt 
Court,  a  few  years  before  the  old  man's  death,  for  that 
purpose ;  but  he  got  no  further  than  the  door,  the  first  blow 
of  the  knocker  sending  him  and  his  companion  out  of  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Lion  in  a  panic  from  which  they  did 
not  recover  until  they  were  well  up  the  Strand. 

After  leaving  the  Temple,  Rogers  lodged  for  a  short  time 
in  Princes  Street,  Hanover  Square ;  but  he  took  possession 


1763-1855.]  SAMUEL  KOGERS.  257 

of  the  famous  house  No.  22  St.  James's  Place,  St.  James's 
Street,  iu  1800,  where  he  lived  for  more  than  half  a  century, 
aud  where  he  gathered  about  him  the  brightest  intellects  of 
his  time. 


"What  a  delightful  house  it  is !     It  looks  out  on  the  Green  Park 

just  at  the  most  pleasant  point.     The  furnitiu-e  has  been  selected 

with  a  delicacy  of  taste   quite  unique.     Its  value  does  ^^.^.^  ^^^ 

not  depend  on  fashion,  but  must  be  the  same  while  the  Letiers  of 

11,.  Til-  Lord  Macau- 

fine  arts  are   held  in  any  esteem.     In   the   drawing-  lay,  vol  i. 

room,  for  example,  the  chimney-pieces  are  carved  by  *^  ^^*" "' 
Flaxman  into  the  most  beautiful  Grecian  forms.  The  bookcase 
is  painted  by  Stothard,  iu  his  very  best  manner,  with  groups  from 
Chaucer,  Shakspere,  and  Boccaccio.  The  pictures  are  not  nu- 
merous, but  every  one  is  excellent.  The  most  remarkable  object 
in  the  dining-room  is,  I  think,  a  cast  of  Pope,  taken  after  death 
by  Roubilliac. 

I  forgot  who  introduced  me  to    Mr.  Rogers  in  the  year  1820. 
He  lived   then,  and   until  his  death,  in   St.   James's  Place.     It 
was  not  in  a  wide  street,  but  it  looked  on  to  the  Green  p,.oy(^r.g 
Park.     Upon  the   whole,  I  never  saw  any  house   so  Rei=oU«c- 
tastefully  fitted  up  and   decorated.     Everything  was  Men  of 
good   of  its  kind,  and  in  good   order.     There  was  no 
plethora,  no  appearance  of  display,  no  sign  of  superfluous  wealth. 
.  .  .  His  breakfast-table  was  perfect  in  all  respects.     There  was 
not  too  much  of  anything ;  not  even,  too  much  welcome,  yet  no 
lack  of  it. 

Rogers  is  silent,  and,  it  is  said,  severe.     When  he  does  talk  he 
talks  well,  and  on  all  subjects  of  taste   his  delicacy  of  expression 
is   pure  as   his   poetr3^     If  you  enter  his  house,  his 
drawing-room,  his  library,  you  of  yourself  say  this  is  ar^Nov.  ^ 
not  the  dwelling  of  a  common  mind.     There  is  not  a  ^f-  ^^^f  '• 

o  _  Moore  s 

gem,  a  coin,  a  book  thrown  aside  on  the  chimney-piece.  Life  of 
his  sofa,    his  table,  that  does  not  bespeak  an  almost 
fastidious  elegance  iu  the  possessor.     But  this  very  delicacy  must 
be  the  misery  of  his  existence.     Oh,  the  jarriugs  his  disposition 
must  have  encountered  through  life ! 
24 


258  NICHOLAS  ROWE.  [1673-1718. 

Rogers  died  in  St.  James's  Place,  December  18,  1855.  His 
house  —  No.  22,  a  charming  residence  —  was  unchanged 
in  1885,  and  unmarked  by  any  tablet,  altiiough,  with  the 
exception  of  Holland  House  (sec  Addison,  p.  3),  it  is  perhaps 
the  most  interesting  in  London,  on  account  of  its  literary 
associations. 

The  tomb  of  Eogers  is  in  the  northeast  corner  of  Hornsey 
Churchyard. 

Rogers  was  a  member  of  Bobus  Smith's  *  King  of  Clubs,' 
which  met  at  the  Crown  and  Anchor  Tavern,  Strand,  '  extend- 
ing from  Arundel  Street  eastward  to  Milford  Lane,  in  the 
rear  of  the  south  side  of  the  Strand '  (see  Johnson,  p.  170). 
The  Whittington  Club,  No.  37  Arundel  Street,  was  after- 
wards built  upon  its  site  (see  Jerrold,  p.  155).  He  was  also 
one  of  the  early  members  of  the  Athenaeum,  built  on  the 
site  of  the  Courtyard  of  Carlton  House,  Waterloo  Place, 
and  Pall  Mall. 


NICHOLAS   ROWE. 

1673-1718. 

"DOWE  is  said  to  have  received  his  early  education  at 
-'-^  the  Highgate  Grammar  School  (see  Coleridge,  p.  59), 
and  is  known  to  have  been  a  pupil  of  Dr.  Busby  at  West- 
minster School  (see  Churchill,  p.  51),  where  he  was 
chosen  King's  Scholar  in  1685.  In  1689  he  was  entered  as 
a  student  in  the  Middle  Temple.  But  little  is  recorded  of 
his  life  in  London,  except  that  in  his  later  years  he  lived 
in  King  Street,  Covent  Garden,  where  he  died. 

Rowe  died  the  16th  of  December,  1718,  in  the  forty-fifth  year 
of  his  age,  and  was  buried  the  19th  of  the  same  month  in  West- 


NICUOLAS    ROWE. 


1696-97-1743.] 


RICHARD   SAVAGE.  259 


minster  Abbey,  in  the  aisle  where  many  of  our  English  poets  are 
interred,  over  against  Chaucer  ;  his  body  being  attended  ^^  ^^^_ 
bv  a  select  number  of  his  friends,  and  the  Dean  and  wood's  Life 
choir  officiating  at  his  funeral. 

Rowe  frequented,  among  others,  the  Cocoa  Tree  Tavern, 
No.  64  St.  James's  Street. 

The  anecdotes  connected  with  the  Cocoa  Tree  when  it  was 
really  the  'Wits'  Coffee  House'  would  fill  a  volume.  One  of 
them  may  be  quoted  here.     Dr.  Garth,  who  used  often 

•'  ^  .     .  •         ■        ii       Old  and 

to    appear    there,    was    sittmg    one   mormng  in    tne  New  Lon- 
coffee-room,  conversing  with  two  persons  of  '  quality,'   ^1,'^'^,  "xiii.'^' 
when  the  poet  Rowe,  who  wa.s  seldom   very  attentive 
to   his  dress  and  appearance,  though  fond  of  being  noticed  by 
great  people,  entei'ed  the  door.     Placing  himself  in  a  box  nearly 
opposite  to  that  in  which  the  Doctor  sat,  Rowe  looked  constantly 
round  with  a  view  to  catch  his  eye  ;  but  not  succeeding,  he  desired 
the  waiter  to  ask  him  for  the  loan  of  his  snuff-box,  which  he  knew 
to  be  a  valuable  one,  set  with  diamonds,  and  the  gift  of  royalty. 
After  taking  a  pinch  he  returned  it,  but  again  asked  for  it  so  re- 
peatedly that  Garth,  who  knew  him  well,  and  saw  through  his 
purpose,  took  out  a  pencil  and  wrote  on  the  lid  two  Greek  charac- 
ters, <I>  and  P,  — '  Fie  !  Rowe ! '     The  poet's  vanity  was  mortified, 
and   he   left  the  house. 


RICHAED   SAVAGE. 

1696-97-1743. 

"p  ICHARD  SAVAGE  was  born  in  Fox  Court,  Holborn, 
■'■^  January  16,  1696-97,  and  was  baptized  on  the  18th 
of  the  same  month  by  the  rector  of  St.  Andrew's  Church, 
Holborn,  as  Richard  Smith. 

Such  was  the  beginning  of  the  life  of  Richard  Savage.     Born 
with  a  legal  claim  to  honor  and  to  affluence,  he  was  in  two  months 


260  RICHARD  SAVAGE.  [1696-97-1743. 

illegitimated  by  the  parliament,  and  disowned  by  hi.s  mother, 
doomed  to  poverty  and  obscurity,  and  launched  upon 
Livcs^of  Uie    the  ocean  of  life  only  that  he  might  be  swallowed  by 
Saw'e.  its  quicksands  or  dashed  upon  its  rocks. 

In  1885  the  west  end  of  Fox  Court  near  Gray's  Inn  Road 
was  torn  down;  but  nearer  Brooke  Street  were  still  standing 
many  miserable,  wretched  tenements,  two  centuries  old,  in 
any  one  of  which  the  cruel  mother  might  have  given  life  to 
her  unhappy  son. 

The  site  of  the  shoemaker's,  stall  in  Ilolborn,  where 
Savage  worked  as  a  youth,  is  unknown,  nor  is  there  any 
record  as  to  where  he  lodged  or  lived. 

Savage  first  met  Johnson  at  Cave's,  in  St.  John's  Gate 
(see  Johnson,  p.  157) ;  and  a  favorite  tavern  of  his  was  the 
Cross  Keys,  in  that  neighborhood.  It  stood  on  the  east  side 
of  St.  John's  Street,  opposite  the  entrance  of  St.  John's 
Lane,  and  fjicing  the  Gate.  A  modern  Cross  Keys  Inn  at 
Nos.  16  and  18  St.  John's  Street  has  been  erected  on  its  site. 
He  frequented  the  Crown  in  King  Street,  Cheapside,  which 
has  disappeared,  and  in  1727  he  went  to  Button's  (see 
Addison,  p.  6)  to  receive  the  seventy  guineas  which  were 
subscribed  by  a  number  of  gentlemen  for  his  relief  from 
distress.  He  is  then  believed  to  have  been  lodging  some- 
where in  Westminster. 

Of  '  Robinson's  Coffee  House,  near  Charing  Cross,'  in  which 
occurred  the  unfortunate  broil  which  brought  great  subse- 
quent trouble  to  Savage,  there  is  no  trace  now.  Johnson 
gives  the  following  account  of  the  affair  :  — 

Merchant,  with  some  rudeness,  demanded  a  room,  and  was  told 
'  that  there  was  a  good  fire  in  the  next  parlor,  which  the  company 
were  about  to  leave,  being  then  paying  their  reckoning.  Mer- 
chant, not  satisfied  with  this  answer,  rushed  into  the  room  and 
was  followed  by  his  companions.  He  then  petulantly  placed 
himself  between  the  company  and  the  fire,  and  soon  afterwards 


1771-1832.]  SIR   WALTER   SCOTT.  261 

kicked  down  the  table.  This  produced  a  quarrel ;  swords  Avere 
drawn  on  both  sides,  and  one,  Mr.  James  Sinclair,  was  killed. 
Savage,  having  likewise  wounded  a  maid  that  held  him,  forced  his 
way  with  Merchant  out  of  the  house. 

They  were  committed  to  the  Gate  House  at  Westminster 
(see  BuKKE,  p.  27),  and  afterwards  to  Newgate,  aud  were 
tried  at  the  Old  Bailey.  Savage  was  sentenced  to  death, 
but  subsequently  pardoned.  What  became  of  the  petulant 
Mr.  Merchant,  who  was  convicted  of  manslaughter  only,  is 
not  known. 

.  Savage  was  familiar  with  all  the  disreputable  taverns  of 
his  day,  and  was  to  be  seen,  too,  in  some  of  the  moi'e  re- 
fined resorts.  One  of  his  experiences  with  Steele  is  thus 
described  :  — 

Almost  adjoining  and  to  the  east  of  Apsley  House,  formerly 
stood  a  noted  inn,  the  Pillars  of  Hercules.  .  .  .  The  space  be- 
tween the    Pillars  of  Hercules  and   Hamilton  Place 
[Hyde  Park  Corner]  was  formerly  occupied  by  a  row  London, 
of  mean  houses,    one    of  which  was   a  public   house  p'-Jjeadiiiy. 
called  the  Triumphant  Chariot.    This  was  in  all  prob- 
ability  the   'petty  tavern'   to   which    the  unfortunate   Richard 
Savage  was  conducted  by  Sir  Richard  Steele,  on  the  occasion  ot 
their  being  closeted  together  for  a  whole  day  composing  a  hurried 
pamphlet   which  they  had  to  sell   for  two  guineas   before   they 
could  pay  for  their  dinner. 


SIE  WALTER   SCOTT, 

1771-1832. 

OCOTT,  on  one  of  his  earliest  visits  to  London,  in  1803, 
^  wrote  to  Ballantyne  from  '  15  Piccadilly,  AVest,'  the 
house  of  Charles  Dumergue,  surgeon  dentist  to  the  Royal 
Family. 


262  SIR   WALTER  SCOTT.  [1771-1832. 

Lockiiarfs         I  sbould  not  oiuit  to  say  that  Scott  was  attended  on 
Life  of  Scott.  |.jjjg  |.j.jp  ^y  ^  gjjg  ijy^j  tcmer  named  Camp. 

Piccadilly  has  been  renumbered.  The  Dumergues  lived 
in  the  house  afterwards  No.  96  Piccadilly,  corner  of  White- 
horse  Street,  which  was  unchanged  in  1885  ;^®  and  this  was 
Scott's  usual  abiding-place  in  town  until  his  daughter  Mrs. 
Lockhart  had  a  house  of  her  own  at  No.  24  Sussex  Place, 
fronting  lleirent's  Park,  between  Hanover  Gate  and  Clarence 
Gate,  to  which  to  invite  hira. 

During   the   sojourn  [in   London]  of    1809   the    homage   paid 
Scott  would  have  turneAl  the  head  of  any  less  gifted  man  of  emi- 
nence.    It  neither  altered  his  opinions  nor  produced 

Lockhart's  .»,...,  , 

Scott,  vol.  i.  the  affectation  of  despising  it ;  on  the  contrary,  he  re- 
ceived it,  cultivated  it,  and  repaid  it  in  his  own  coin. 
'  All  this  is  very  flattering,'  he  would  say,  '  and  very  civil ; 
and  if  people  are  amused  with  hearing  me  tell  a  parcel  of  old 
stories,  or  recite  a  pack  of  ballads  to  lovely  young  girls  and  gap- 
ing matrons,  they  are  easily  pleased,  and  a  man  would  be  very 
ill-natured  who  would  not  give  pleasure  so  cheaply  conferred.' 

In  1826  Scott  was  lodging  at  No.  25  Pall  Mall,  when  he 
wrote  in  his  Diary  :  — 

Oct.  17.  —  Here  I  am  in  this  capital  once  more,  after  an  April 
meeting  with  my  daughter  and  Lockhart.     Too  much 

Scott  vol.^     grief  in    our  first   meeting  to  be  joyful,    too    much 

ii.  chap.  pleasure  to  be  distressing  ;  a  giddy  sensation  between 
the  painful  and  the  pleasurable.  .  .  .  Oct.  23.  —  Sam 

Rogers  and  Moore  breakfasted  here,  and  we  were  very  merry 

fellows. 

This  house,  on  the  north  side  of  Pall  Mall,  between  John 
Street  and  Waterloo  Place,  has  been  relmilt. 

Scott,  in  his  occasional  visits  to  London,  was  to  be  found 
in  all  the  best  houses  and  in  the  most  enjoyable  society. 
He  breakfasted  with  Rogers  in  St.  James's  Place  (see 
Rogers,  p.  258),  frequented  the  shop  of  Mr.  Murray,  No.  50 


SIR    WALTER   SCOTT. 


1771-1832.]  SIR   WALTER  SCOTT.  263 

A,  Albemarle  Street,  where  he  first  met  Byron,  in  1815  (see 
Byron,  p.  34),  and  was  welcome  at  the  clubs. 

During  the  later  years  of  his  life  he  stopped  at  the 
Waterloo  Hotel,  Nos.  85  and  86  Jermyn  Street ;  at  Long's, 
No.  16  New  Bond  Street,  where  he  had  his  last  meeting 
with  Byron  (see  Byron,  p.  34),  both  unchanged  in  1885 ; '' 
and  at  the  St.  James  Hotel,  No.  76  Jermyn  Street,  on  the 
south  side  between  Bury  and  Duke  Streets,  since  a  Turkish 
Bath  Establishment,  from  whence  in  1832  he  was  taken  to 
Abbotsford  to  die. 

When  I  saw  Sir  Walter  [Dr.  Ferguson  writes],  he  was  lying  in 
the  second-floor  back  room  of  the  St.  James   Hotel  ni  Jermyn 
Street,  in  a  state  of  stupor  from  which,  however,  he 
could  be  roused  for  a  moment  by  being  addressed.  .  .  .  scott.  Vol. 
I  think  I  never  saw  anything  more  magnificent  than  ^y^f^^'' 
the  symmetry  of  his  colossal   bust,  as  he  lay  on  the 
pillow  with  his  chest  and  neck  exposed.  ...  At  length  his  con- 
stant yearning  to  return  to  Abbotsford  induced  his  physicians  to 
consent  to  his  removal  ;  and  the  moment  this  was  notified  to  him 
it  seemed  to  infuse  new  vigor  into  his  frame. 

The  St.  James  Hotel,  No.  76  [Jermyn  Street[|,  on  the  south 
side,  was  the  last  London  lodging  of  Sir  Walter  Scott.     Here  he 
lay  for  a  period   of  three   weeks  after  his  return  from  ^ 
the  Continent,  either  in  absolute  stupor  or  in  a  wak-  ham's  Hand- 
ing dream.     The   room  he  occupied  was  the  second-  London : 
floor  back  room  ;  and  the  author  of  this  collection  of  gt^eet." 
London  memoranda  delights  in  remembering  the  uni- 
versal feeling  of  sympathy  exhibited  by  all  (and  there  were  many) 
who  stood  to  see  the  great  novelist  and  poet  carried  from  the 
hotel  to  his  carriage  on  the  afternoon  of  the  7th  of  July,  18.32. 
Many  were  eager  to  see  so  great  a  man  ;  but  all  mere  curiosity 
seemed   to  cease   when  they   saw  the  vacant  eye  and  prostrate 
figure   of  the  illustrious  poet.     There  was  not  a  covered  head, 
and   the   writer  believes  —  from  what  he  could   see  —  hardly  a 
dry  eye,  on  the  occasion. 


264  WILLIAM   SlIAKSPERE.  [1564-1616. 

« 

THOMAS   SHADWELL. 

Circa  1640-1692. 

T  ITTLE  more  is  known  of  the  London  life  of  William  the 
■*— '  Third's  Poet  Laureate  than  that  he  was  a  member  of 
the  Middle  Temple,  lived  at  one  time  in  Salisbury  Court, 
now  Salisbury  Square,  Fleet  Street  (see  Richardson,  p.  253), 
and  in  Church  Lane,  afterwards  Church  Street,  Chelsea, 
where  he  died.  He  was  buried  in  St.  Luke's  Church, 
Chelsea  ;  but  no  tablet  records  the  fact,  and  his  grave  is 
unknown. 

Mr.  Shadwell  died  the    19th    December,    1692,   in   the   fifty^ 
„., .    ,  second  year  of  his  age,  as  we  are  informed  by  the  in- 

Lives  of         scription  upon  his  monument  at  Westminster  Abbev, 

the  Poets  .  . 

vol.  iii.:  '      although  there  may  be  some  mistake  in  that  date,  for 
'"^  "'^  •       it   is   said  in   the   titlepage   of    his   funeral    sermon, 
preached  by   Dr.  Nicholas  Brady,  that  he  was  interred  in  Chelsea 
on  the  24th  November  of  that  year. 


WILLIAM   SHAKSPERE. 

1564-1616. 

OHAKSPERE  left  Stratford-on-Avon  for  London  about 
"^  15S5,  when,  according  to  tradition,  he  became  con- 
nected in  some  way  with  one  of  the  then  existing  theatres, 
perhaps  holding  the  horses  of  the  gentlemen  who  patronized 
the  Red  Bull,  in  Red  Bull  Yard,  now  Woodbridge  Street,  St. 
.John's  Street,  Clerkenwell  (see  Davenant,  p.  75).     He  was. 


1564-1616.]  WILLL/VM   SHAKSPEKE.  265 

however,  more  likely  a  player  at  the  Blackfriars  House,  which 
was  built  in  1576,  upon  the  ground  now  called  Play  House 
Yard,  Ludgate  Hill,  and  the  site  of  which,  according  to 
Doran,  '  is  occupied  by  Apothecaries'  Hall  [No.  84  Water 
Lane,  between  Carter  Lane  and  Play  House  Yai'd]  and  some 
adjacent  buildings.'  The  theatre  was  restored  twenty  years 
later,  when  Shakspere  and  Burbage  were  interested  in  its 
management,  but  was  destroyed  during  the  Commonwealth 
and  never  rebuilt. 

That  Shakspere  was  afterwards  a  householder  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Blackfriars  Theatre,  there  is  no  ques- 
tion. In  the  Guildhall  Library  is  preserved  the  original 
deed  of  conveyance  of  a  house  bought  by  him  and  described 
as  '  abutting  upon  a  streete  leading  down  to  Puddle  Wharffe 
on  the  east  part  right  against  the  King's  Maiesty's  Ward- 
robe.' This  property  in  his  will  he  bequeathed  and  devised 
unto  his  daughter  Susannah  Hall.  Major  James  Walter,  in 
his  '  Shakspere's  Home  and  Rural  Life '  (page  70),  says  : 
*A  house  is  [1874],  or  was  till  lately,  pointed  out  near 
St.  Andrew's  Church  as  having  been  that  which  belonged  to 
Shakspere  ;  but  this  is  only  a  matter  of  popular  tradition.' 

The  Church  of  St.  Andrew-by-the- Wardrobe,  built  by 
Wren  after  the  Great  Fire,  and,  of  course,  of  later  date 
than  Shakspere's  time,  stood  in  1885  in  the  modern  Queen 
Victoria  Street,  between  St.  Andrew's  Hill  and  Wardrobe 
Terrace. 

Wardrobe  Place,  Church  Entry,  Ireland  Yard,  and  Play 
House  Yard  still  perpetuate  the  memory  of  this  part  of 
Blackfriars  as  it  was  in  Shakspere's  day  ;  but  everything 
else  is  changed.  In  1885,  around  the  wretched  and  forsaken 
burial-place,  which  is  all  that  is  left  of  St.  Anne's  Church, 
Carter  Lane,  — destroyed  in  the  Great  Fire,  and  never  rebuilt, 
—  was  a  fragment  of  stone  wall,  probably  the  only  stones 
left  standing  in  that  parish  which  Shakspere  may  have  seen. 


266  WILLIAM   SIIAKSPERE.  [1564-1616. 

Ireland  Yard  is  believed  to  have  been  so  called  from  the 
"William  Ireland  mentioned  in  this  deed  of  Shakspere's 
house  as  '  being  now  or  later  in  the  tenure  or  occupation 
of  it.' 

Shakspere,  early  in  his  London  career,  was  associated  with 
the  Globe  Theatre  on  the  Bankside,  which  was  built  in  1594, 
and  was  under  the  management  of  the  same  company  as  the 
Blackfriai-s,  but  on  the  other  side  of  the  Thames  and  not  far 
from  the  southern  end  of  Old  London  Bridge.  It  was  used  as 
a  sort  of  suburban  or  summer  theatre  until  it  was  destroyed 
by  fire  in  1613.  Maps  and  plans  of  Old  London  show  it  to 
have  stood  in  the  yard  of  the  Globe  Tavern,  which  was 
approached  by  Globe  Alley,  an  offshoot  of  Maid  Lane,  after- 
wards New  Park  Street.  Its  exact  site  seems  to  have  been 
in  the  establishment  of  the  famous  Brewery  of  Barclay  and 
Perkins,  and  directly  behind  the  houses  which  in  1885  were 
numbered  13,  15,  and  17  Southwark  Bridge  Road,  standing 
on  the  east  side  of  that  thoroughfare,  nearly  opposite  Sum- 
ner Street.  Globe  Alley,  Deadman's  Place,  and  a  number  of 
other  streets  and  lanes  often  trod  by  Shakspere  have  been 
entirely  demolished  in  the  frequent  extensions  of  the  premi- 
ses of  the  great  firm  of  brewers  (see  Johnson,  p.  163). 

Knight,  in  his  '  London,'  says  that  Shakspere  lived  as  late 
as  1609  in  the  street  since  known  as  Clink  Street,  South- 
wark. In  1885  it  extended  from  St.  Mary  Overy's  Wharf 
to  Bankend  and  the  railway-crossing.  Malone  believes  his 
Southwark  abiding-place  to  have  been  '  near  the  Bear  Gai-- 
dens  in  the  liberty  of  the  Bishop  of  Winchester,'  just  west 
of  Winchester  Park,  the  site  of  which  is  now  marked  V)y 
Winchester  Street  and  Winchester  Yard.  The  Bear  Gar- 
dens in  1885  was  a  short  street  running  from  No.  27  Bank- 
side  to  No.  58  Park  Street,  between  the  Southwark  Bridge 
Crossing  and  Emerson  Street.  This  was  on  the  exact  site  of 
the  Bear  Gardens  existing  during  the  reigns  of  the  Tudors 


WILLIAM    SHAKESPEARE. 


1564-1616.]  WILLIAM   SHAKSPERE.  267 

and.  the  Stuarts,  as  is  shown  by  comparison  with  old  maps 
and  plans  of  Sonthwark.  It  is  composed  of  modern  build- 
ings, and  its  character  is  entirely  changed.  It  contained  in 
1885  a  White  Bear  Inn. 

As  for  the   baiting   of  bulls  and   bears,  they  are  to   this  day 

much   frequented,  namely,  in   Bear   Gardens   on   the  Bankside, 

wherein  be  prepared  scaffolds  for  beholders  to  stand  „^     , 

Stows 
upon.  .  .  .  Now  to  return  to  the  west  bank  there  be  Survey  of 

two  bear  gardens,  the  old  and  new  places,  wherein  be  EdiUon'of 

kept  bears,  bulls  and  other  beasts  to  be  baited,  as  also  ^^**^- 

mastiffs,  in  several  kenels,  nourished  to  bait  them.     These  bears 

and  other  beasts  are  then  baited  in  plots  of  ground,  scaffolded 

about  for  the  beholder  to  stand  safe. 

Slender.   Why  do  your  dogs  bark  so  ?      Be  there  bears  i'  the 
town? 

Anne.    I  think  there  are,  sir  ;  I  heard  them  talked  of. 
Slender.   I  love  the  sport  well,  but  I  shall  as  soon  Merry 

.  «     .      Wives  of 

quarrel  at  it  as  any  man  in  England.     You  are  afraid  Windsor, 
if  you  see  the  bear  loose,  are  you  not  1  geeuc  i. 

Anne.    Ay,  indeed,  sir. 

Slender.    That 's  meat  and  drink  to  me  now. 

Clifford.    Are  these  thy  bears  1     We  '11  bait  thy  bears  to  death, 
And  manacle  the  bear-ward  in  their  chains,  2  Henry  VI. 

If  thou  dar'st  brin"  them  to  the  baiting-place.  act  v. 

scene  X> 

Richmond.    Oft  have  I  seen  a  hot  o'erweening  cur 
Run  liack  and  bite  because  he  was  withheld. 
Who,  being  suffer'd  with  the  bear's  fell  paw. 
Hath  clapp'd  his  tail  between  his  legs,  and  cried. 

Edmond  Shakspere,  a  brother  of  the  bard,  and  an  actor 
at  the  Globe,  shared,  perhaps,  his  Bankside  home.  The 
Parochial  Monthly  Accounts  of  St.  Saviour's,  Sonthwark 
(see  Fletcher,  p.  107),  still  preserved,  contain  in  the  proper 
place  the  following  entry  :  '  1607.  December  31st;  Edmond 
Shakspere,  a  player,  buried  in  the  church,  with  a  forenoone 
knell  of  the  great  bell.'  His  grave  is  unknown,  although  a 
25 


268  WILLIAM   .SHAKSPERE.  P56i-1G16. 

few  years  ago,  upon  a  stone  in  the  pavement  of  the  choir  of 
the  old  church,  were  engraven  liis  name  and  the  date  of  his 
death. 

The  connection  of  William  Shakspere  with  South wark  is  one 

of  the  most  unquestionable  facts  in   his  liiography.     His  brother, 

loftie's         '''^  ^^'^  liavc  seen,  was  buried  iu  the  church.     His  thea- 

Historyof     tre  was  the   *  Gloabe  uiwu  Banckside.'     Close  to  it, 

Londou,  ,  ,  1      T-. 

vol.  i.  but  rather  more  to  the  westward,  was  the  Rose,  another 

ap-  X.  theatre.  A  little  further  in  the  same  direction  was 
two  '  pitts '  for  bear-baiting  and  bull-baiting  ;  and  the  locality  is 
.still  [1883],  or  was  very  lately,  known  as  the  Bear  Gardens,  and  is 
so  marked  on  many  maps.  Another  old  name  still  extant  is  that 
of  the  Falcon  Dock,  close  to  which  stood  the  Falcon  Tavern, 
which  is  said  to  have  been  patronized  by  Shakspere  and  his  com- 
pany. Paris  Garden  was  exactly  on  the  spot  now  covered  by  the 
southern  approaches  of  Blackfriars  Bridge.  If  the  modern  vis- 
itor, therefore,  wishes  to  identify  the  place  where  Shakspere 
played,  he  cannot  do  better  than  take  the  train  from  Charing  Cross 
to  Cannon  Street,  and  when  he  has  crossed  the  line  of  the 
Chatham  and  Dover  Railway,  he  is  in  the  classical  region  of 
Bankside.  Looking  towards  the  river  he  will  see  St.  Peter's 
Church,  immediately  beyond  which,  a  little  to  the  right,  were  the 
bull  and  bear  pits.  The  train  then  crosses  the  Southwark  Bridge 
Road,  on  the  right-hand  side  of  which,  looking  from  the  railway,  is 
Barclay  and  Perkins'  Brewery.  It  covers  the  site  not  only  of  the 
Globe,  but  also  of  the  Rose,  the  Hope,  and  various  other  places  of 
a  similar  kind,  which  existed  here  from  before  Shakspere's  time 
vmtil  all  theatres  were  abolished  by  the  Commonwealth. 

In  1598  one  William  Shakspere  was  assessed  five  pounds 
on  a  house  in  the  parish  of  St.  Helen's,  Bishopsgate  Street, 
which  he  is  believed  to  have  occupied  himself.  There  is  no 
certainty  that  this  was  the  Shakspere,  although  he  was 
unquestionably  f\\miliar  with  that  neighborhood,  and  with 
the  adjacent  Crosby  Hall,  the  most  important  house  in  the 
parish,  which  has  carefully  been  restored  and  is  an  inter- 
esting specimen  of  the  domestic  architecture  of  the  fifteenth 


1561-Wlt).]  WILLIAM   SlLUvSPERE.  269 

century  (see  More,  p.  223).  It  figures  in  Shakspere's 
'  Richard  III.'  as  Crosby  Place  :  '  At  Crosby  Place,  then, 
shall  you  find  us  both.'  In  Shakspere's  day  it  was  occu- 
pied by  the  mother  of  his  friend  Pembroke,  who,  as  the 
subject  of  all  verse,  is  not  unlikely  to  have  entertained 
there  the  ajij^lause,  delight,  the  wonder  of  our  stage,  the 
soul  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived  (see  Sydney). 

Then  have  you  one  great  house  called  Crosby  Place,  because  the 

same  was  built  by  Sir  John  Crosby,  grocer  and  woolman.  .  .  , 

The  house  he  built  of  stone  and  timber,  very  large  and  gto^-g 

beautiful   and   the   his^hest   at   that   time   in  London  Survey  of 

,  London, 

ri466].  .  .  .  Richaz'd,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  and  Lord   Edition  of 

1598 

Protector,  afterwards    King,  by  the  name  of  Richard 
IIL,  was  lodged  in  this  house.  .  .  .  From  this  Crosby  Place  up  to 
Leaden  Hall  Corner,  and  so  down  Grass  Street,  amongst  other 
tenements  are  divers  fair  and  large  built  houses  for  merchants 
and  such  like. 

Crosby  Place,  or  Hall,  the  Church  of  St.  Saviour,  where 
it  is  to  be  supposed,  naturally,  that  he  was  present  at  the 
burial  of  his  brother ;  and  Middle  Temple  Hall,  where 
'Twelfth  Night*  is  known  to  have  been  produced  in  1601, 
when  Shakspere  was  probably  an  on-looker  or  director,  — 
are  the  only  buildings  still  standing  in  London  which  are 
in  any  way  —  and  even  these  only  by  inference  —  asso- 
ciated with  him. 

Venerable  Hall  of  the  Middle  Temple,  thou  art  to  our  eyes 
more  stately  and  more  to  be  admired  since  we  looked  upon  that 
entry  upon  the  Table   Book  of  John  Manningham  !  pj-gface  to 
The  Globe  has  perished,  and  so  has  the  Blackfriars.  knight's 

mi  1         p     1  i>     1  Pictorial 

The  works  of  the  poet  who  made  the  names  of  these  Edition  of 
frail  buildings   immortal  need  no  association  to  rec- 
ommend them,  but  it  is  yet  pleasant  to  know  that  there  is  one 
locality  remaining  where  a  play  of  Shakspere's  was  listened  to  by 
his  contemporaries,  and  that  play  '  Twelfth  Night.' 


270  WILLIAM   SIIAKSPERE.  [1564-1616. 

Feb.  IGOl.  —  At  our  feast  we  bad  a  play  called  'Twelfth  Night, 
or  What  you  will,'  much  like  the  'Comedy  of  Errors,'  or 
Templar's  '  ^lenochuii '  in  Plautus  but  most  like  and  neere  to 
^'•I'T;  that  in  Italian  called  '  Inganni.'     A  good  practise  in  it 

MS.  British  to  make  the  steward  believe  his  lady-widdowe  was  in 
*"■  love  with  liini  by  counterfayting  a  letter  as  from  his 
lady,  in  generall  termes  telling  him  what  shee  liked  best  in 
him  and  prescribing  his  gestures  inscribing  his  apparaile,  &c. 
and  then  when  he  came  to  practise,  making  him  believe  they 
tooke  him  to  be  mad. 

During  his  Loudon  life  Shakspere  is  believed  to  have 
been  a  frequenter  of  the  Mermaid  Tavern,  which  stood  on 
the  south  side  of  Cheapside,  between  Bread  and  Friday 
Streets,  and  where  he  is  said  to  have  had  his  conflicts  of  wit 
with  Ben  Jonson  (see  Jonson,  p.  17G);  and  tradition  asso- 
ciates his  name  with  the  Falcon  Tavern,  taken  down  in 
1808.  Its  site,  until  lately,  was  occupied  by  the  Falcon 
Glass  Works  at  the  end  of  Holland  Street,  Southwark,  oppo- 
site the  Falcon  Drawing  Dock  ;  and  its  name  still  lives  in 
Falcon  Docks  and  Falcon  Wharf,  ISTos.  79  and  80  Bankside. 
Another  tavern  certainly  known  to  Shakspere  was  the 
Boar's  Head,  in  Eastcheap,  the  site  of  which  is  marked  by 
the  statue  of  William  IV.  (see  Goldsmith,  p.  125).  It  was 
a  favorite  tavern  of  Falstaff  and  Prince  Hal.  He  also 
speaks  of  the  White  Hart  Inn  (White  Hart  Inn  Yard,  Xo. 
Gl  Borough  High  Street  in  1885):  — 

„  „        „,         Hath  my  sword  therefore  broke  through   London 

2  Heniy  VI.,  •' 

act  iv.  Gates,  that  you  should  leave  me  at  the  White  Hart 

scene  8.  •      ci      i.i         \   i 

in  Southwark  s 

The  only  letter  in  existence  addressed  to  Shakspere  is 
now  preserved  at  Stratford-upon-Avon.  It  was  directed 
by  Richard  Quyney  '  To  my  loveiug  good  Ffriend  and 
Countryman,  Mr.  W™  Shackespere,  deliver  these,'  and  was 
written  from  the  Bell  Inn,  Bell  Inn  Yard,  Carter  Lane,  St. 


PERCY    BYSSHE    SHKLI.EY. 


1792-1822.]  PERCY   BYSSHE   SHELLEY.  271 

Paul's  Churchyard,  —  a  hostelry  without  doubt  well  kuowu 
to  Shakspere  lumself.  A  comparatively  modern  Bell  Inu, 
its  direct  descendant,  stood  upon  its  site  in  1885.^° 


PERCY   BYSSHE   SHELLEY. 

1792-1822. 

OHELLEY  saw  but  littleof  London,'^  which  was  the  place 
neither  of  his  birth  nor  of  his  death.  He  is  known  to 
have  lived  in  a  hotel  in  Dover  Street,  Piccadilly,  where  one 
of  his  children  was  born;^'  to  have  lodged  atone  time  at  IS^o. 
90  Great  Russell  Street  (facing  the  present  Bury  Street,  — 
the  southeast  wing  of  the  British  Museum  was  built  on  the 
site  of  this  house)  ;  at  one  time  on  the  corner  of  Hastings 
Street  and  Marbledown  Place,  Burton  Crescent,  Euston  Road  ; 
and  at  'No.  41  Hans  Place,  Sloane  Street,  in  a  house  which 
has  been  raised  two  stories  and  I'enewed.  Later  he  lived  at 
No.  23  Chapel  Street,  South  Audley  Street,  in  a  house  also 
enlarged  ;  and  in  1817  he  was  an  inmate  of  Hunt's  Cottage 
at  Hampstead  (see  Hunt,  p.  148),  when  Keats  was  their 
neighbor. 

Leigh    Hunt   was    editing    the  '  Examiner,'    and    in  spite   of 
his   two  years'  imprisonment  was  still  liberal  to   the  Bianehard 
backbone.      For  Shelley  was  with  him,  talking  wild  L^feof  "^ 
radicalism   at  Hampstead,  or  discussing  the  destinies  pongias 

*■  /  °  Jenold, 

as  the  two  friends  rode  into  town  on  the  stage.  chap.  iii. 

Shelley  was  married  to  ]\Lary  Wollstonecraft  Godwin, 
December  13,  1816,  in  St.  Mildred's  Church,  Bread  Street, 
corner  of  Cannon  Street ;  and  he  wooed  and  won  his  bride  in 
Old  St.  Pancras  Churchyard,  now  St.  Pancras  Gardens,  Old 
St.    Pancras    Road,   Kentish    Town,   then  a  quiet    peaceful 


272  WILLIAM   SHENSTONE.  [1714-1763. 

spot,  where  by  her  mother's  grave  (see  Godwin',  p.  118) 
Mary  was  foud  of  sitting  with  her  book  or  her  work.  Of 
tliis  marriage  Godwin  wrote  :  — 

The    piece  of  news,  however,  I  have  to   tell  you,  is  that   I 

went  to  churcli  with  this  same  tall  girl  some  little 

Giid«  in,  )iis    time  ago  to  he  niurried.     Her  husband  is  the  eldest 

c.'mt'cmiu!'-'^   son  of  Sir  Timotliy   Shelley,  of  Field   Place,  in  the 

nines, vol.  ii.  (jyunty  of  Sussex,  Baronet  ;  so  that,  according'  to  the 

ClialJ.  IX.  ''  '  '  ■     ^  1 

vulgar  ideas  of  the   world,  she  is  well   married,  and 
I  have  great  hopes  the  young  man  will  make  her  a  good  husband. 


WILLIAM   SHENSTONE. 

1714-1763. 

OHENSTONE,  at  one  time,  lodged  in  Jermyn  Street  ; 
^  and  in  1740  dated  his  letters  from  'the  bouse  of  Mr. 
Wintle,  Perfumer,  near  Temple  Bar,'  probably  in  Butcher 
Row  (see  Lee,  p,  196). 

The  greater  part  of  his  life  was  spent  in  Shropsliire ;  his 
occasional  resting-place  in  town  being  the  George  Coffee 
House,  afterwards  numbered  213  Strand,  near  Essex  Street, 
upon  the  site  of  which  a  modern  tavern  bearing  tlie  same 
name  has  been  erected  (see  Murphy,  p.  227).  It  was  at 
this  inn  that  his  '  warmest  welcome'  was  found.  In  one  of 
his  lettei's  he  says:  — 

What  do  you  think  must  be  my  expense,  who  love  to  pry  into 
everything  of  the  kind  ?  Why,  truly,  one  shilling.  My  company 
goes  to  George's  Coffee  House,  where  for  that  small  subscription 
I  read  all  pamphlets  under  a  three-shilling  dimension. 


^'^'i- 


f>  /I  V" 


RICHARD    BRINSLET    SHKRIDAN 


1751-181(3.]        RICH^VRD   BRIXSLEY   SHERIDAN.  273 


RICHAED  BEINSLEY   SHERIDAN. 

1751-1816. 

T^  THEN-  Sheridan  and  Miss  Linley  fled  to  London,  they 
*  ^  took  refuge  in  the  house  of  an  oilman,  at  the  Hol- 
born  end  of  Featherstone  Buildings.  The  proprietor  was 
the  godfother  of  Charles  Lamb,  who  relates  in  the  Essay 
'  My  First  Play,'  how  his  father  and  mother  were  playing 
quadrille  when  Sheridan  arrived  that  evening  '  with  his 
harmonious  charge.'  Featherstone  Buildings,  little  changed 
in  188-5,  was  opposite  the  Great  Turnstile. 

Sheridan's  first  duel  with  Mathews,  interrupted  at  Hyde 
Park,  near  the  Hercules'  Pillars,  an  inn  just  east  of  the 
present  Apsley  House  (see  Savage,  p.  261),  was  followed  by 
a  second  at  the  Castle  Tavern  in  Henrietta  Street,  Covent 
Garden,  of  which  no  trace  remains  now. 

Sheridan  was  entered  a  student  at  the  Middle  Temple  in 
1772.  In  1773  he  and  his  wife  were  living  in  Orchard 
Street,  Portman  Square,  where  he  wrote  '  The  Rivals,'  pro- 
duced iu  January,  1775,  and  'The  Duenna/  brought  out 
in  November  of  the  same  year.  Of  his  home  life  almost 
nothing  is  known ;  and  it  is  only  from  his  own  letters  and 
from  those  addressed  to  liim,  that  any  hint  is  found  as  to 
his  divers  places  of  abode  in  London. 

In  1778  his  address  was  Great  Queen  Street,  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields;  in  1792,  Lower  Grosvenor  Street,  New  Bond 
Street;  in  1793,  No.  10  Hertford  Street,  Mayfair ;'"  in  1804, 
Somerset  Place,  Portman  Square;  in  1810,  Queen  Street, 
Mayfair.  He  died  in  1816  at  No.  14  Savile  Row,  Burling- 
ton Gardens,  in  the  house  marked  by  the  tablet  of  the 
Society  of  Arts ;  and  he  is  supposed  to  have  lived  for  a  short 


274  KICIIARI)   BRINSLEY   SHERIDAN.       [1751-1810. 

time  at  No.  17  Saville  Row,  where  half  a  century  hiter  was 

carefully  kept  a  cast  of  his  hand,  with  the  inscription,  — 

» Good  at  a  fight,  better  at  a  play, 
Godlike  in  giving  ;  but  the  Devil  to  pay.' 

Sheridan's  ghost  is  believed  to  haunt  a  certain  upper 
back  room  in  this  house ;  and  during  its  occupancy  by  the 
Saville  Club,  the  scratching  of  his  pen,  it  is  said,  was  often 
heard  in  the  silence  of  the  early  morning  hours. 

He  was  buried  from  the  house  of  his  friend  Mi-.  Peter 
Moore,  in  Great  George  Street,  Westminster,  'in  the  only 
spot  that  remained  unoccupied  in  Poets'  Corner.' 

In  1815  Sheridan  was  arrested  for  debt  and  taken  to  a 
'  lock-up  house '  in  Took's  Court,  Cursitor  Street,  Chancery 
Lane. 

February  7.  —  Fox  never  wrote  his  speeches,  was  fond  of  pre- 
paring them  in  travelling,  as  he  said  a  post-chaise  was  the  best 
Grevllle  Me-  place  to  arrange  his  thoughts  in.  Sheridan  wrote  and 
moirs,  1836.  prepared  a  great  deal,  and  generally  in  bed,  with  his 
books,  pen,  and  mk  on  the  bed,  where  he  would  lie  all  day. 

Sheridan's  clubs  were  Brooks's, — still  at  No.  60  St.  James's 
Street  in  1885,  —  and  the  Eccentric,  which  met  first  in  a 
tavern  in  Chandos  Street,  Covent  Garden,  then  at  the  Crown 
in  Vinegar  Yard,  Drury  Lane,  — taken  down  some  years  ago, 
—  and  later  at  Tom  Rees's,  in  May's  Buildings,  where  it 
flourished  as  late  as  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
May's  Buildings  is  a  short  street  connecting  St.  Martin's 
Lane  with  Bedfordbury. 

Immediately  after  the  brilliant  success  of  '  The  Rivals,' 
Sheridan  was  proposed  by  Dr.  Johnson  himself,  and  elected, 
a  member  of  The  Club  (see  Goldsmith,  p.  123). 

He  was  a  frequenter  of  the  Bedford  Coffee  House,  in  the 
Piazza,  Covent  Garden  (see  Churchill,  p.  51);  the  One  Tun 
Tavern,  in  St.  James's  Market,  Jermyii  Street,  near  the  Hay- 
market,   and    long   since   taken   down ;   and,    according   to 


1594-1666.]  JAMES  SHIRLEY.  275 

Moore's  Diary,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  stopping  at  the  Adam 
and  Eve,  opposite  Holland  House,  where  he  left  his  bills 
to  be  paid  by   Lord  Holland. 

The  Adam  and  Eve  has  disappeared ;  but  a  very  new 
structure  in  the  same  line  of  business,  and  bearing  the  old 
name,  was  erected  on  its  site,  in  Kensington  Eoad,  near 
Shaftesbury  House,  and  opposite  Argyll  Road. 

Sheridan  occasionally  pledged  his  valuables  at  the  shop 
of  one  Harrison,  a  pawnbroker  at  No.  95  Wardour  Street, 
renumbered  143  Wardour  Street,  on  the  corner  of  Edward 
Street,  where,  in  the  same  old  house,  the  business  was  still 
carried  on  under  the  same  name  in  1885. 


JAMES   SHIELEY. 

1594-1666. 

JAMES  SHIRLEY,  according  to  Anthony  Wood,  'was 
born  in,  or  near,  the  parish  of  St.  Mary  Woolchurch, 
where  the  stocks  market  now  [1G90]  is.'  This  church, 
which  stood  on  the  site  of  the  Mansion  House,  was  destroyed 
in  the  Great  Fire  and  never  rebuilt.  Shirley  was  educated 
at  the  Merchant  Taylors'  School,  which  stood  on  the  east 
side  of  Suffolk  Lane,  Upper  Thames  Street,  but  was  taken 
down  when  the  school  was  removed  to  the  Charter  House 
in  1872. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Gray's  Inn,  and  lived 
for  some  time  in  Gray's  Inn  Lane,  where  he  wrote  the 
earliest  of  his  dramatic  works.  During  a  portion  of  the 
Commonwealth  he  was  a  school-teacher  somewhere  in  White- 
friars,  and  was  living  in  Fleet  Street  near  the  Inner  Temple 
Gate  at  the  close  of  his  life. 


276  I'lllLir   8IDXEY.  [1551-1587-8. 

Shirley's  house  in  Fleet  Street  having  been  burnt  to  the  ground 
in  the  Great  Fire  of  166f),  he  was  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in  the 
Jesse's  Lon-  »i^ig^»1^>o''"g  village  of  St.  Giles-in-the-Fields,  whither, 
don,  vol.  iii. :  however,  he  retired  only  to  die.     As  has  been  already 

Gray's  Inn.  •  t       i        t  i'  i  •  i 

mentioned,  the  loss  ol  lii.s  property,  added,  probably, 
to  the  horrors  of  the  terrible  conflagration  which  he  had  witnessed, 
gave  such  a  shock  to  his  constitution  that  he  survived  the  event 
scarcely  twenty-four  hours. 

Shirley  and  his  wife,  who  died  within  a  few  hours  of  each 
other,  were  buried  in  one  gi-ave  in  the  yard  of  the  Church 
of  St.  Giles-in-the-Fields  (see  Marvell,  p.  208). 


PHILIP   SIDNEY. 

1554-1587-8. 

OIDNEY  was  not  a  native  of  London,  although  his  father 
^^  and  grandf\xther  lived  in  Threadneedle  Street,  where, 
no  doubt,  a  portion  of  his  own  youth  was  spent.  He  has  left 
but  few  traces  of  his  life  in  town,  except  in  coui't  circles. 
He  was  a  member  of  Gray's  Inn,  and  is  naturally  believed  to 
have  been  a  frequent  visitor  at  Crosby  Place  in  Bishopsgate 
Street  (see  Shakspere,  p.  269),  when  it  was  the  residence  of 
*  Sidney's'  sister,  Pembroke's  mother,'  to  whom  his  '  Arca- 
dia '  was  dedicated,  and  by  whom,  after  his  death,  it  was 
published. 

Sidney  was  buried  in  Old  St.  Paul's  Cathedral  with  no 
little  pomp,  his  body  having  previously  lain  in  state  in  the 
Minories  after  its  arrival  from  the  field  of  Zutphen,  where  his 
death-wound  was  received.  The  wooden  monument  erected 
to  his  memory  was  of  course  destroyed,  with  the  cathedral, 
in  the  Great  Fire. 


PHIMP    SIDNEY. 


1775-1849.]  JAMES  AND   HORACE   SMITH.  277 

The  great   Sir   Philip   Sidney,   who   was    publicly  buried   at 
St.  Paul's   Cathedral  in   1587,  was  a  brother  of  the  jji(jiioii..g 
Grocers'  Company,  and  was  attended  by  that  livery  in  Progress  of 
all  their  formalities,  who  were  preceded  by  the  Lord  Elizabeth, 
Mayor,  Aldermen,  and  Sheriffs  '  rydinge  in  purple.' 

The  Grocers'  Hall,  damaged  in  the  Great  Fire,  and  after- 
wards restored,  stood  in  1885,  as  it  stood  in  Sidney's  day, 
at  the  end  of  Grocers'  Hall  Court,  opposite  Xo.  11  Poultry. 


JAMES   SMITH. 

1775-1839. 

HOEACE   SMITH. 

1779-1849. 

JAMES  and  Horace  Smith  were  born  at  No.  36  Basinghall 
Street,  London  Wall,  in  one  of  the  three  or  four  old- 
fashioned  houses  still  left  iu  that  old-fashioued  street  in 
1885.     It  stood  in  a  small  court  on  the  east  side. 

James  Smith  lived  for  some  time  at  No.  18  Austin  Friars, 
in  a  house  at  the  end  of  the  lane,  also  unaltered  in  1885. 

A  second  James   Smith,  coming  to  the  place  [Austin  Friars] 
after  he  had  been  many  years  a  resident  there,  pro- 
duced so  much  confusion  to  both  that  the  last  comer  hams  Hand- 
waited  on  the  author  and  suggested,  to  prevent  further  Londo°n  : 

inconvenience,  that  one  or  other  had  better  leave,  hint-  Austin 

'  Friars. 

ing  at  the  same  time  that  he  should  like  to  stay.    '  No,' 
said   the  wit,     '  I   am   James   tlie  First  !      You   are   James  the 
Second  ;   you  must  al)dicate.' 
26 


:278  SYDNEY   SMITH.  [1771-1845. 

He  spent  the  last  years  of  liis  life  at  No,  27  Craven 
Street,  Strand,  afterwards  a  private  hotel,  where  he  died. 
He  was  buried  in  the  neighboring  Church  of  St.  Martin-in- 
the-Fields, 

For  some  years  before  his  death  he  [James  Smith]  suffered  a 
good  deal  from  gout  ;  but  while  hobbling  ou  his  crutches,  or  being 
,,  wheeled  about  in  his  bath-chair,  he  retained  an  almost 

Memoirs  ,  ' 

of  the  youthful  buoyancy  of  mind,  referring  with  glee  to  the 

Countess  of     "  , .    '         ..  ,.  ^ .  .     ,    ,    .        .... 

Blessing-  merry  meetnigs  oi  lormer  times,  indulging  in  Ins  pleas- 
chaii^^xlv"  '"^^^  modes  of  jest  and  anecdotes,  or  singing  with  his 
nieces  from  morning  to  night.  He  died  on  the  24th 
of  December,  1839,  in  his  house  in  Craven  Street,  as  he  lived,  a 
merry  bachelor,  '  with  all  the  calmness  of  a  philosopher,'  we  are 
told,  but  of  what  school  we  are  left  in  ignorance.  Peace,  however, 
to  the  ashes  of  Jiinies  Smith,  which  are  deposited  in  the  vault  of 
St.  Martin's  Church. 

James  Smith  was  a  member  of  the  Atheneeum  Club  on 
Pall  Mall,  the  Union  Club  at  the  southwest  corner  of  Tra- 
falgar Square,  and  the  Garrick,  which,  in  his  day,  stood 
at  No.  35  King  Street,  Covent  Garden,  but  which  in  1864 
was  removed  to  No.  15  Garrick  Street,  Long  Acre  (see 
Thackeray). 

Horace  Smith  was  a  member  of  the  London  Stock  Ex- 
change. Making  a  moderate  fortune  there,  he  retired  to 
Tuubridge  Wells,  where  he  died,  and  was  buried,  in  1849. 


SYDNEY  SMITH. 

1771-1845. 


O  YDNEY  SMITH,  who  was  born  at  Woodford  in  Essex, 
^^  a  few  miles  from  London,  established  himself  in  1804 
at  No.    8  Doughty  Street,    Mecklenburgh  Square,  a  house 


SYDNEY   SMITH. 


1771-1845.]  SYDNEY   SMITH.  279 

unchanged  eighby  years  later  (see  Dickens,  p.  82),  and  about 
the  same  time  was  appointed  evening  preacher  to  the  Found- 
hng  Hospital,  where  his  salary  was  fifty  pounds  a  year. 
Two  years  afterwai'ds  he  removed  to  No.  18  Orchard  Street, 
Port  man  Square,  —  a  two-storied  red  brick  house,  still 
standing  in   1885. 

In  this  house  his  means  were  slightly  increased,  yet  he  still 
remained  poor.  ...  But  the  pleasantest  society  at  his  house  was 
to  be  found  in  the  Httle  suppers  which  he  established  ^  ^    „  , 

....  Lady  Hol- 

once   a  week ;  giving  a   general   invitation   to   atiout  laud's  Me- 
twenty  or  thirty  persons,  who  used  to  come  as  they  Rev.^'sydney 
pleased.  ...  At  these  suppers  there  was  no  attempt  ^"]^^l^ 
at  display,  nothing  to  tempt  the  palate  ;  but  they  were 
most  eagerly  sought  after,  and  were  I  to  begin  enumerating  the 
guests  usually  to  be  found  there,  no  one  would  wonder  that  they 
were  so. 

Here  he  remained  until  he  left  London  for  Yorkshire  in 
1809. 

In  1831  he  was  appointed  to  a  prebendal  stall  in  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral,  and  writing  to  a  friend  he  says  :  — 

I  have  just  taken  possession  of  my  preferment.  The  house  is 
in  Amen  Corner,  —  an  awkward  name  on  a  card,  and  ^  ^^^^  ^^^ 
an  awkward  annunciation  to  the  coachman  on  leaving"  Correspond- 

cncG  of  Rgv 

any  fashionable  mansion.     I   find  too  (sweet  discov-  Sydney 
ery ! )  that  I  give  a  dinner,  every  Sunday  for  three  ^""*''>  ^^^^• 
months  in  the  year,   to  six  clergymen  and  six  singing-men,  at 
one  o'clock. 

The  residences  of  the  Dean  and  Canons  of  St.  Paul's  are 
still  in  Amen  Court,  Amen  Corner,  Paternoster  Row. 

During  Sydney  Smith's  many  visits  to  London  he  stayed 
at  Holland  House  (see  Addison,  p.  3)  ;  in  Hertford  Street, 
Mayfair ;  at  No.  20  Savile  Row,  Burlington  Gardens  ;  at 
No.  18  Stratford  Place,  Oxford  Street  (unchanged  ii^  1885)  ; 
in   "Weymouth  Street,  Portland    Place  ;  etc.     Between  the 


280  TUBLiS   SMOLLETT.  [17-21-1771. 

years  1834  and  1839  he  occupied  the  house  No.  33  Charles 
Street,  Berkeley  Square,  next  to  the  corner  of  Queen  Street, 
when  he  removed  to  JVo.  56  Green  Street,  Grosvenor  Square 
(No.  59  in  188.5),  and  to  this  house  in  1845  he  was  brought 
from  Combc-Florey  to  die. 

He  was  buried  by  his  own  desire,  as  quietly  as  possible,  in 
Kensal  Green  ;  and  his  wife  and  son  lie  there  by  his  side. 

Those  who  wish  to  make  a  pilgiiniuge  to  the  grave  of  Sydney'' 
Smith  will  be  glad  to  know  that  they  can  easily  find  it  by  follow- 
ing the  north  walk  until  they  are  opposite  the  entrance 
Reiii's  to  the  Catacombs.     Turning  to  the  left  at  that  point, 

Sythiey  they  will  discover,  in  the  fifth  row  from    the  walk,  a 

Smith(i884),  raised  tomb  of  Portland  stone.  .  .  .  With  the  solitary 

cliaiJ.  XIV.  _  ■' 

exception  of  a  small  painted  window  in  the  church  at 
Combe-Florey,  the  grave  in  Kensal  Green  is  the  only  memorial  to 
Sydney  Smith  which  England  has  to  show. 

Smith  was  a  member  of  the  King  of  Clubs,  founded  by 
his  brother,  which  met  at  the  Crown  and  Anchor  in  the 
Strand  (see  Rogers,  p.  258) ;  and  of  The  Club  (see  Gold- 
smith, p.  123,  and  Johxsox,  p.  1G7),  to  which  he  was  elected 
in  1838. 


TOBIAS   SMOLLETT. 
1721-1771. 


OMOLLETT  came  first  to  London  in  1739,  and  describes 
his  journey  hither  in  '  Roderick  Random,'  a  novel 
which  is  believed  to  be  in  a  great  measure  autobiograph- 
ical.  His  first  settled  home  was  in  Downing  Street,  where 
in  1744  he  was  practising,  or  seeking  to  practise,  as  a  sur- 
geon.    In    1746    he    was    in    humble    lodgings    in    Curzon 


1721-1771.]  TOBIAS   SMOLLETT.  281 

Street,  Mayfair;  and  in  1747  he  married  and  took  a  more 
pretentious  house,  where  he  hved  beyond  his  means,  and 
wrote  '  Roderick  Random,'  pubhshed  by  Osborne  in  Gray's 
Inn  Lane,  in  1748.  In  1750  he  went  to  Chelsea,  where  he 
hved  until  he  left  England  never  to  return. 

His  Chelsea  home,  called  Monmouth  House,  stood  at  the 
end  of  Lawrence  Street,  at  the  junction  of  Upper  Cheyne 
Row,  —  a  large  double  house,  still  remembered  in  the  parish, 
and  taken  down  only  a  few  years  ago.  His  life  here  is 
described  by  himself  in  '  Humphrey  Clinker/  in  a  letter  of 
Jerry  Mulford  :  — 

Dick  Ivy  carried  me  to  dine  with  S [Smollett],  whom  you 

and  I  have  long  known  by  his  writings.  He  lives  in  the  skirts  of 
the  town  ;  and  every  Sunday  his  house  is  open  to  all  unfortunate 
brothers  of  the  quill,  whom  he  treats  with  beef,  pudding,  and 
potatoes,  port,  punch,  and  Calvert's  entire  butt-beer.  ...  I  was 
civilly  received  in  a  plain  yet  decent  habitation,  which  opened 
backwards  into  a  very  pleasant  garden,  kept  in  excellent  order ; 
and  indeed  I  saw  none  of  the  outward  signs  of  authorshij),  either 
in  the  house  or  the  landlord,  who  is  one  of  those  few  writers  of 
the  age  that  stand  upon  their  own  foundation,  without  patronage 
and  above  dependence.  If  there  was  nothing  characteristic  in 
the  entertainer,  the  company  made  ample  amends  for  his  want  of 
singularity.  At  two  o'clock  I  found  myself  one  of  ten  messmates 
at  a  table  ;  and  I  question  if  the  whole  kingdom  could  produce 
svich  another  assemblage  of  originals.  .  .  .  After  dinner  we  ad- 
journed  into   the  garden,  where    I   observed  Mr.  S gave  a 

short,  separate  audience  to  every  individual,  in  a  small  remote 
filbert  walk,  from  whence  most  of  them  dropped  off,  one  after 
another,  without  further  ceremony  ;  but  they  were  replaced  by 
other  recruits  of  the  same  class,  who  came  to  make  an  afternoon's 
visit. 

Monmouth  House  was  the  original  Lawrence  Manor 
House.  Its  gardens  have  entirely  disappeared  ;  the  play- 
grounds of  the  new  Board  School  covering  their  site. 


282  THOMAS   SOUTHERNE.  [1660-1746. 

From  internal  evidences,  and  from  the  dates  of  publica- 
tion, '  Humphrey  Clinker'  and  '  Sir  Launcelot  Greaves'  were 
written  in  Chelsea.  '  Peregrine  Pickle  '  was  '  Printed  for  the 
Author  at  Plato's  Head,  near  Round  Court,  in  the  Strand, 
in  1751,'  and  was  probably  written  in  London. 

Plato's  Head  was  on  the  north  side  of  the  Strand,  nearly 
opposite  Ijuckingham  Street.  Round  Court,  which  extendeJ 
back  to  the  present  King  William  Street,  disappeared  in 
1829,  when  the  Strand  Improvement  Act  was  carried  into 
effect. 

Smollett  frequented  all  the  coflee-houses  of  his  day, — 
Tom's,  Will's,  the  Cocoa  Tree,  etc.  (see  Addison)  ;  but  his 
favorite  tavern  was  that  to  which  his  fellow-Scotchmen,  in 
their  clannish  way,  were  wont  to  go,  —  the  British  Coffee 
House,  in  Cockspur  Street  (still  standing  in  1885),  between 
Warwick  Street  and  Spring  Gardens.^** 

At  Chelsea  he  was  often  to  be  found  at  Don  Saltero's 
Coffee  House,  which  stood  at  No.  18  Cheyne  Walk,  facing 
the  river,  and  was  kept  as  a  public  house  as  late  as  1870. 
It  is  fully  described  by  Steele  in  the  '  Tatler '  (see  Steele). 
In  1885  it  was  a  private  dwelling. 


THOMAS   SOUTHERNE. 

1660-1746. 

OOUTHERNE  was  a  member  of  the  Middle  Temple  in 
^  1G78,  but  he  has  left  no  traces  of  his  life  in  London 
until  his  later  years. 

In  William  Oldys's  Manuscript  Notes  to  Langbaine  is  to 
be  found  the  following  description  of  Southerne  ;  — 


1660-1746.]!  THOMAS   SOUTHERNE.  283 

I  remember  him  a  grave  and  reserved  old  gentleman.  He  lived 
near  Coveut  Garden,  and  used  to  fretj^uent  the  evening  prayers 
there  [at  St.  Paul's  Church],  always  neat  and  decently  dressed, 
commonly  in  black,  with  his  silver  sword  and  silver  locks ;  but 
latterly  he  seemed  to  reside  in  Westminster. 

He  [Southerne]  was  a  perfect  gentleman  ;  he  did  not  lounge 
away  his  days  or  nights  in  coffee-houses  or  taverns,  but  after 
labor  cultivated  friendship  in  home  circles,  where  vir- 

•     1  TT     1  Doran's 

tue  and  modest  mirth  sat  at  the  hearth.  .  .  .  He  kept  Annals  of 
the  even  tenor  of  his  way,  owing  no  man  anything  ;  yj  j  ''°^' 
never  allowing  his   nights   to   be   the   marrer  of  his  *^^"*P-  ^• 
mornings  ;  and  at  six-and-eighty  carrying  a  bright  eye,  a  steady 
hand,  a  clear  head,  and  a  warm  heart  wherewith  to  calmly  meet 
and  make  surrender  of  all  to  the  Inevitable  Angel. 

Among  the  footnotes  to  an  edition  of  Wood's  'Athense 
Oxonienses  '  published  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  is  a 
letter  from  Southerne  dated  '  From  Mr.  Whyte's,  Oylman 
in  Tothil  Fields,  against  Dartmouth  Street,  1737.' 

Southerne,  the  poet 

'  Tom  sent  down  to  raise 
The  price  of  prologues  and  of  plays,' 

lived  for  many  years  at  Mr.  Whyte's,  an  oilman's,  in  Tothill 
Street,  against  Dartmouth  Street.  The  house  is  still  [1850]  an 
oilman's  shop.     On  calling   there   in  the   year   1841, 

,  .  Cunniug- 

when   the   house   Avas   undergoing,  as  I  thought,   too  ham's  Hand- 
effectual  and  radical  a  repair,  Mr.  Mncklow,  the  then  Loiidon : 
tenant,   informed  me  that    his   father   had   the   busi-  l^^^^l^ 
ness   of  a  man   named  Girdler,  and  Girdler  had  the 
business    of   a  man    named    Whyte.       He    knew    nothing    of 
Southerne,  but  had  seen  and  admired  Mrs.  Siddons  as  Isabella 
in  'The  Fatal  Marriage.'     The  house  had  the  date  of  1671  upon 
it  ;  and  the  balustraded  balcony  at  the  top  was  added  when  the 
repairs  were  made. 

Mr.  Cunningham  does  not  give  the  number  of  this  house ; 
but  the  address  of  Mr.  Mucklow  the  oilman,  in  the  London 


284  ItUBERT   SOUTIIEY.  [1774-1843. 

Directory  for  1840,  was  No.  4  Totliill  Street.  This  build- 
ing, by  that  strange  fatality  so  frequently  observed,  has  been 
taken  down,  while  contemporary  houses  which  have  no  lit- 
erary associations  remain.  In  1885,  No.  4,  '  over  against 
Dartmouth  Street,'  was  the  modern  Cock  Tavern,  but  in  the 
front  of  it  was  still  preserved  the  old  stone,  bearing  date 
1671. 

Southerne  died  in  Smith  Street,  Westminster,  and  was 
buried  in  the  Church  of  St.  Paul,  Covent  Garden,  although 
at  the  present  day  the  position  of  his  gi'ave  is  unknown 
(see  Butler,  p.  29).  The  old  Church  of  St.  Paul  was 
destroyed  by  fire  in  1795. 


EGBERT   SOUTHEY. 

1774-1843. 

OOUTHEY  was  sent  to  Westminster  School  (see  Church- 
^-^  ILL,  p.  51)  in  March,  1788  ;  but  nothing  of  interest  is 
recorded  of  his  experiences  there,  except  that  he  left  in  dis- 
grace in  1792,  because  of  an  article  he  had  written  in  a 
school  magazine.  In  1797  he  entered  Gray's  Inn,  his  ad- 
dress being  'at  Mr.  Peacock's,  at  20  Prospe«t  Place,  New- 
ington  Butts,  near  London.'  Prospect  Place  has  since  been 
called  Deacon  Street,  Walworth  Road.  The  entire  neigh- 
borhood has  been  renamed,  renumbered,  and  rebuilt.  He 
remained  then,  as  in  later  years,  but  a  short  time  in  town, 
and  he  was  rarely  to  be  seen  here.  In  November,  1823,  he 
made  a  visit  to  the  Lambs,  at  Colebrook  Cottage,  Islington 
(see  Lamb,  p.  191),  and  was  always  a  welcome  guest  at  the 
home  of  Murray  the  publisher,  No.  50  A,  Albemarle  Street 
(see  Byrox,  p.  .34),   and  at  Rogers's  house  in   No.  22  St. 


\\U' 


ROBKRT    SOUTHEY. 


1553-1599.]  EDMUND   SPENSER.  285 

James's  Place,  St.  James's  Street.  He  is  also  known  to 
have  enjoyed  the  society  of  Lamb  and  Coleridge  in  the 
humble  rooms  of  the  Salutation  and  Cat,  No.  17  Newgate 
Street  (see  Coleridge,  p.  60). 

Southey's  opinion  of  London,  and  of  its  effect  upon  him, 
is  thus  expressed  in  a  letter  written  to  a  friend  in  1806  :  — 

London  disorders  me  by  over-stimulation.  Company,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  intoxicates  me.  I  do  not  often  commit  the  fault  of 
talking  too  much,  but  very  often  say  what  would  be  better  left 
unsaid,  and  that  too  m  a  manner  not  to  be  easily  forgotten.  .  .  . 
And  so  it  is  that  the  society  of  any  except  my  friends,  though  it 
be  sweet  in  the  mouth,  is  bitter  in  the  belly. 


EDMUND   SPENSER. 

Circa  1553-1599. 

■\  7ERY  little  can  be  gathered  of  Spenser's  life  in  London, 
^  except  the  vague  facts  that  he  was  born  in  East  Smith- 
field,  near  Tower  Hill ;  that  he  was  educated  at  the  Merchant 
Taylors'  School,  which  then  stood  in  Suffolk  Lane,  Upper 
Thames  Street  (see  Shirley,  p.  275) ;  that  he  was  often  at 
Essex  House,  formerly  Exeter  House,  on  the  site  of  Devereux 
Court  and  Essex  Street,  Strand  (see  Locke,  p.  197),  and  at 
Leicester  House,  which  stood  on  the  north  side  of  Leicester 
Square,  its  gardens  extending  back  to  Lisle  Street ;  and 
that,  dying  of  a  broken  heart  in  King  Street,  Westminster 
(see  Pepys,  p.  233),  he  was  buried  near  Chaucer,  in  the 
Poets'  Cornel",  receiving  a  monumental  stone,  when  dead, 
from  the  men  who  are  supposed  to  have  neglected  him 
living,  and  to  have  refused  him  the  bread  for  which  he 
asked. 


286  EDMUND   SPENSEK.  [1553-1599. 

1 1  was  distinctly  in  Spenser's  poetical  character  that  he  received 

the  honors  of  a  funeral  from  Devereux,  Earl  of  Essex.     His  hearse 

was  attended  l)y  points,  and  nionrnful  elegies  and  poems, 

Westminster  with  tin;  j'ens  tliat  wrote  them,  were  thrown  into  his 

^y^^^y.'  tomb.     What  a  funeral  was  that  at  which  Beaumont, 

chai).  IV. 

Fletcher,  Jonson,  and  in  all  piobability  Shakspere 
attended  !  what  a  grave,  in  which  the  pen  of  Shakspere  may  be 
mouldering  away  !  In  the  original  inscription,  long  ago  eflaced, 
the  vicinity  of  Chaucer  is  expressly  stated  as  the  reason  for  the 
selection  of  the  spot.  .  .  .  The  inscription  in  pathos  and  sim- 
plicity is  worthy  of  the  author  of  the  '  Faery  Queen,'  but  curious 
as  implying  the  unconsciousness  of  any  greater  than  he  at  that 
very  time  to  claim  the  title  then  given  to  him  of  the  '  Prince  of 
Poets.' 

Drummond,  of  Hawthoruden,  in  his  '  Conversations '  with 
Ben  Jonson,  quotes  the  latter  as  giving  the  following  account 
of  Spenser's  death  :  — 

The  Irish  having  robbed  Spenser's  goods  and  burnt  his  house 
and  a  little  child  new  born,  he  and  his  wife  escaped  ;  and  after  he 
died  for  lack  of  bread  in  King  Street,  and  refused  twenty  pieces 
sent  him  by  the  Earl  of  Essex,  adding  he  had  no  time  to  spend 
them. 

Drummond,  the  Father  of  Interviewers,  is  not  always 
reliable  in  his  reports  of  what  his  beloved,  honored,  and 
worthy  friend  said  of  Spenser  or  of  others ;  and  later  his- 
torians are  inclined  to  believe  that  Spenser's  last  days, 
although  miserable  enough,  were  not  so  utterly  wretched  as 
are  here  described.  He  certainly  received  immediate  post- 
humous honors  of  no  common  kind. 


EDMUND    SPENSER. 


1C71-1729.]  lilCH^VRD   STEELE.  287 

EICHAED   STEELE. 

1671-1729. 

OTEELE,  according  to  the  baptismal  register  quoted  by 
^^  Henry  R.  Montgomery  in  his  '  Memoir '  (Edinburgh, 
1865),  was  born  in  1671,  although  nearly  all  earlier  sketches 
of  his  career  place  the  date  as  1675  or  1676.  He  was  sent  to 
the  Charter  House  in  1684,  three  years  before  Addison  left 
that  establishment  for  Oxford  ;  and  he  himself  did  not  enter 
the  university  until  two  years  after  his  distinguished  friend. 
The  fact  of  this  difference  in  their  school  course,  and  the 
strange  fact  that  nowhere  in  the  lives  of  either  of  them  is 
any  hint  given  of  their  association  while  in  the  university, 
would  perhaps  throw  some  doubts  upon  the  truth  of  the 
picture  so  charmingly  painted  by  Thackeray,  of  their  devo- 
tion to  each  other  while  Charter  House  boys  (see  Addison, 
p.  1),  particularly  as  Steele,  though  in  a  lower  class,  was 
Addison's  senioi"  in  age  by  more  than  a  year. 

I  am  afraid  no  good  report  could  be  given  by  his  masters  and 

ushers  of  that  tliick-set,    square-faced,    black-eyed,   soft-hearted 

little  Irish  bov.     He  was  very  idle.     He  was  whipped 
,  n  "  1  r-    ■  -r.     •  T       1     ■        Thackeray's 

deservedly  a  great  number  oi  times.  .  .  .  Besides  l)eing  English 

very  kind,  lazy,  and  good-natured,  the  boy  went  invari-  Le'tm'e  the 
ably  into  debt  with  the  tart-woman  ;  ran  out  of  bounds,  |!"'''^  '■ 
and  entered  into  pecuniary  or  rather  promissory  en- 
gagements with  the   neighboring  lollipop-venders  and  pie-men, 
exhibited   an  early  fondness  for  drinking  mum  and   sack,  and 
borrowed  from  all  his  comrades  who  had   money  to  lend.  .  .  . 
Addison  did  his  best  themes.     Addison  -wTote  his  exercises.     He 
ran  on  Addison's  messages,  fagged  for  hiin,  and  blacked  his  boots  ; 
to  be  in  Joe's  company  was  Dick's  greatest  pleasure,  and  he  took 
a  sermon  or  a  caning  from  his  monitor  with  the  most  boundless 
reverence,  acquiescence,  and  affection. 
27 


288  l{iCIIAi;i)    STKKLK.  [1671-1729. 

Steele  is  said  in  liavu  ht^luived  to  Addison  in  society  with  a 
marked  deference,  very  iinconinion  and  striking  between  old 
comrades,  equal  in  age,  and  nearly  so  in  all  things  ex- 
An<ni's  Life  cepting  genius  and  conduct.  In  private,  however, 
*'l  ffvu'"'  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  they  associated  together 
on  terms  of  great  familiarity  and  confidence,  and  were 
frequent  depositaries  of  the  litmary  projects  of  each  other. 

Of  Steele's  life  in  London  until  the  death  of  his  first  wife, 
and  his  marriage  to  the  second  in  1707,  not  much  is  known. 
To  his  dear  Prue,  however,  he  writes  from  Smith  Street, 
Westminster,  from  Chelsea,  and  from  many  coffee-houses 
and  taverns,  of  which  more  anon.  In  October,  1707,  he 
took  the  house  which  was  '  the  last  house  but  two  on  the 
left  hand  of  Berry  [or  Bury]  Street,  St.  James's,'  or,  as  he 
addresses  her  later,  '  at  the  third  house,  right  hand  turning 
out  of  Germain  [Jermyn]  Street.'  Here  tbey  lived  while 
in  town  until  1712,  when  they  went  to  Bloomsbury  Square. 
This  Bury  Street  House,  described  by  Peter  Cunningham 
as  standing  '  over  against  No.  20,'  was  taken  down  in 
1830. 

They  remained  in  Bloomsbury  Square,  '  in  the  prettiest 
house,  to  receive  the  prettiest  woman,  his  own  sweet  Prue,' 
for  three  years.  In  1715  he  writes  to  her  '  at  her  house 
over  against  Park  Place,  St.  James's  Street,'  where  three 
years  later  Lady  Steele  died.  She  was  buried  in  the  south 
transept  of  Westminster  Abbey,  near  the  Poets'  Corner.  It 
was  while  they  were  living  in  Park  Place  probably  —  for  he 
was  then  described  as  Sir  Ptichard  Steele  —  that  the  execu- 
tion for  rent  gave  Steele  the  chance  of  displaying  his  cool- 
ness mider  difficulties  as  told  by  Johnson  in  his  '  Life  of 
Savage  : '  — 

Sir  Richard  Steele  one  day  having  invited  to  his  house  a  great 
number  of  ]iersons  oi'  the  first  ([uality,  they  were  surprised  at  the 
number  of  liveries  which  surrounded  the  table  ;  and  after  dinner, 


RICHARD    STEELE. 


1671-1729.]  RICHARD   STEELE.  '  289 

when  wine  and  mirth  had  set  them  free  from  the  observations  of  a 
ivnd  ceremony,  one  of  them  inquired  of  Sir  Richard  how  such  an 
expensive  train  of  domestics  could  be  consistent  with  his  fortune. 
Sir  Richard  very  frankly  confessed  that  they  were  fellows  of 
whom  he  would  willingly  be  rid.  And  then,  being  asked  why  he 
did  not  discharge  them,  declared  that  they  were  bailiffs,  who  had 
introduced  themselves  with  an  execution,  and  whom,  since  he 
could  not  send  them  away,  he  had  thought  it  convenient  to  em- 
bellish with  liveries,  that  they  might  do  him  credit  while  they 
stayed. 

Steele  had  numerous  country-houses  which  he  occupied 
for  a  shorter  or  longer  period  during  the  summer  months. 
Soon  after  his  second  marriage  he  bought  for  his  wife  a  pretty 
little  cottage  at  Hampton  Court,  which  he  furnished  hand- 
somely, and  which,  by  way  of  contrast  to  the  Palace  near  by, 
he  called  the  Hovel.  In  1708  he  wrote  to  his  wife  to  join 
him  '  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Hardresse,  at  the  Square  at 
Kensington,  till  all  things  be  ready  for  your  greater  ease  in 
town.'  And  in  1712  he  retired  to  Haverstock  Hill,  it  is 
supposed  because  of  financial  trouble.  He  is  said  to  have 
composed  many  papers  for  the  '  Spectator '  here ;  and  no 
doubt  Pope  and  his  other  friends  of  the  Kit  Kat  Club 
stopped  for  him  here  to  carry  him  to  the  meetings  of  the 
society  at  the  Upper  Flask,  in  Hampstead  (see  Addison, 
p.  9). 

Still  descending  Haverstock  Hill,  we  arrive  at  the  site  of  what 
was  called  Steele's  Cottage.     This  cottage  stood  on  the  right-hand 
side  of  the  road  in  a  garden   opposite  to  the   public 
house  called  The  Load  of  Hay,  now  [1869]  modern-  Howitfs 
ized,  and  having  nmch  the  air  of  a  gin-palace.     The  Hei"ht"of 
cottage  called  Steele's  Cottage,  after  Sir  Richard  Steele,  I-^hkIo"  : 

"  °  '  Hampstead. 

was  of  late  years  divided  into  two  dwellings,  and  had 
the  name  of  Steele's  Cottage  painted  on  the  front.  .  .  .  The  long 
line   of  the  new  street  called  Adelaide  Road  bounded  the  open 
ground  at  the  back,  at  no  great  distance.  .  .  .  The   tenants  in- 
formed me  that  they  had  notice  to  (piit,  and  that  in  about  another 


290  KiniAKl)    STEELE.  [l(571-172!i. 

year  it  would  be  swept  away.     Tliis  was  verified  in  the  spring  of 
1867,  and  Steele's  Cottage  now  exists  only  in  engravings. 

The  Load  of  Hay  in  1885  was  numbered  94  Haverstock 
Hill.  'Sir  Richard  Steele's  Tavern,'  Ko.  97  Haverstock  Hill, 
and  '  Steele's  Studios,'  in  the  same  thoroughfare,  perpetuate 
his  name  there. 

Faulkner,  in  his  '  Chelsea,'  says  :  '  Steele  appears  from 
the  parish  books  to  have  I'ented  a  house  by  the  water-side 
at  £14  per  annum.'  Its  site  is  not  known.  In  the  reg- 
ister of  Chelsea  Church  is  recorded  also  tlie  burial  of  one 
'  Margaret,  daughter  of  Edward  Seat,  from  Sir  Richard 
Steele's,  November  12,   1715.' 

After  Lady  Steele's  death  he  took  a  house  '  in  York 
Buildings,'  Villiers  Street,  Strand ;  York  Buildings  being 
a  ireneral  name  for  the  streets  and  houses  erected  on  the 
site  of  York  House  (see  Bacon,  p.  1 2).  Here  he  seems  to 
have  remained  until  he  left  London  finally,  in  1725.  He 
died  and  was  buried  at  Carmarthen,  Wales,  in  1729. 

Not  one  of  Steele's  contemporaries  was  better  acquainted 
than  he  with  the  coffee-houses  and  taverns  of  his  day. 
Besides  being  a  member  of  the  Kit  Kat  Club,  as  has  been 
shown,  he  frequented  the  Bull's  Head  Tavern,  Clare  Market, 
probably  the  tavern  of  that  name  at  No.  40  Vere  Street,  on 
the  east  side,  a  few  doors  from  Sheffield  Street,  and  near 
Clare  Market  (it  tumbled  down  from  sheer  old  age  in 
1875  or  1876,  and  a  Board  School  was  built  on  its  site)  ; 
the  King's  Head,  Pall  IMall ;  the  Devil  Tavern,  at  Temple 
Bar  (see  Jonsox,  p.  175);  the  George,  in  Pall  Mall,  the 
site  of  which  is  now  \inknown  ;  Dick's,  No.  8  Fleet  Street, 
in  existence  in  1885  (see  Cowper,  p.  67);  the  Fountaine, 
No.  103  Strand,  marked  by  Fountain  Court  until  the  sum- 
mer of  1884,  when  its  name  was  changed  to  Savoy  Build- 
ings (see  Johnson,  p.  170)  ;  Lloyd's,  at  Abchurch  Lane, 
corner  of   Lombard  Street,   and    no    longer    standing  ;    the 


1671  1729.]  RICHARD   STEELE.  291 

St.  James's  Coffee  House  (see  Addison,  p.  7)  ;  the  Thatched 
House,  St.  James's  Street  (see  Macaulay,  p.  204) ;  Button's ; 
and  Will's,  in  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden  (see  Addison, 
pp.  6,  7)  ;  the  Trumpet,  in  Shire  Lane  (see  Addison,  p.  8) ; 
the  Grecian,  in  Devereux  Court,  Essex  Street,  Strand  (see 
Addison,  p.  7)  ;  the  Hercules'  Pillars  and  the  Triumphant 
Chariot,  both  at  Hyde  Park  Corner  (see  Savage,  p.  261)  ; 
'  Don  Saltero's,'  at  Chelsea  (see  Smollett,  p.  282) ;  and  the 
White  Hoi'se,  at  Chelsea. 

Being  of  a  very  spare  and  hective  constitution  I  am  forced  to 
make  frequent  jouniies  of  a  mile  or  two  for  fresh  Air.  .  .  .  When  I 
came  into  the  Coffee  House  I  had  no  Time  to  salute  the 

Steele  in 

Company  before  my  Ej^e  was  taken  by  ten  thousand  the  'Tatler,' 
Gimcracks  round  the  Room,  and  on  the  Ceiling.  When 
my  first  astonishment  was  over  comes  to  me  a  Sage  of  a  thin 
and  meagre  Countenance  ;  which  Aspect  made  me  doubt  whether 
Reading  or  Fretting  made  him  so  philosophick.  But  I  very  soon 
perceived  him  to  be  of  that  Sect  which  the  Ancients  called  Gin- 
quistse  ;  in  our  Language  Tooth-Drawers.  I  immediately  had  a 
Respect  for  the  Man  ;  for  these  practical  Philosophers  go  upon  a 
very  rational  Hypothesis,  not  to  cure  but  to  take  away  the  Part 
affected.  My  Love  of  Mankind  made  me  very  benevolent  to 
Mr.  Salter,  for  such  is  the  Name  of  this  Eminent  Barber  and 
Antiquary. 

Steele  at  Button's  figures  in  the  '  Original  Jest  Book '  of 
Joe  Miller,  as  one  of  the  minor  characters  in  a  familiar  tale 
localized  many  times  since  Steele's  day  :  — 

Two  gentlemen  disputing  about  religion  in  Button's  Coffee 
House,  said  one  of  them,  '  I  wonder,  sir,  you  should  talk  of  relig- 
ion when  I  '11  hold  you  five  guineas  you  can't  say  the  Lord's 
Prayer.'  '  Done,'  said  the  other  ;  '  and  Sir  Richard  Steele  shall 
hold  the  stakes.'  The  money  being  deposited,  the  gentleman 
began  with  '  I  believe  in  God,'  and  so  went  cleverly  through  the 
Creed.  '  Well,'  said  the  other,  •  I  own  I  have  lost  I  did  not 
think  he  could  have  done  it.' 


292  LAURENCE   STERNE.  [1713-1768. 


LAURENCE  STERNE. 

1713-17G8. 

OTERNE  saw  but  little  of  London,  though  he  dearly  loved 
^^  the  sensation  he  created,  and  the  attention  he  received 
when  he  first  arrived  in  town.  In  1760  he  lodged  in  Pall 
Mall,  and,  according  to  Dr.  Johnson,  had  engagements  for 
every  day  and  niglit  three  months  ahead.  His  stay  on  this 
occasion  was  of  little  more  than  the  three  months'  duration, 
but  he  lived  alone  and  in  lodgings  for  some  time  during 
several  subsequent  seasons. 

In  the  fragment  of  his  life  written  by  himself  he  gives  no 
hint  of  his  movements  or  mode  of  living  here. 

He  died  on  the  18th  of  March,  1768,  at  No.  41  Old  Bond 
Street,  '  over  the  silk-bag  shop.' 

Fx'om  the  '  Travels  in  Various  Parts  of  Europe,  Asia,  and 
Africa,  by  John  Macdonald,  1790,'  D'Israeli,  in  his  'Literary 
Miscellanies,'  quotes  the  following  story  of  Sterne's  death. 
Macdonald  was  footman  to  a  gentleman  of  quality. 

*  John,'  said  my  master,  '  go  and  inquire  how  Mr.  Sterne  is 
to-day.'  ...  I  went  to  Mr.  Sterne's  lodgings  ;  the  mistress  opened 
the  door.  I  inquired  how  he  did ;  she  told  me  to  go  up  to  the 
nurse.  I  went  into  the  room,  and  he  was  just  a  dying.  I  waited 
ten  minutes,  and  in  five  he  said,  '  Now  it  has  come.'  He  put  up 
his  bands  as  if  to  stop  a  blow,  and  died  in  a  minute. 

The  house  No.  41  Old  Bond  Street,  which  was  standing 
in  1885,  was  older  than  Sterne's  day,  and  if  not  the  actual 
house  in  which  he  died,  it  saw  his  body  carried  to  the  grave. 
Rev.  W.  J.  Loftie,  however,  than  whom  there  is  no  lietter 
authority  in  such  matters,  says  —  in  his  '  History  of  Lon- 
don'  (1883),  chap.  xxi.  note  —  that  Sterne's  house  stood  on 


1713-1768.]  LAURENCE   STERNE.  293 

the  site  of  the  shop  of  Agnew  the  picture-dealer,  numbered, 
in  1885,  39  B,  Old  Bond  Street. 
Sterne  was  buried  March  22. 

And  thus  duly  neglected  hy  the  whole  crowd  of  boon  compan- 
ions, the  remains  of  Yorick  were  consigned  to  the  '  new  burying 
ground  near  Tyburn,'   of  the  parish  of  St.  George's, 
Hanover    Square.     In    that    now    squalid  and    long-  steniJ'^^'"  ^ 
decayed  graveyard,  within  sight  of  the  Marble  Arch,  '-^^'■^}':  ,y'"-  • 
and  over  against  the  broad    expanse   of  Hyde    Park,  Men  of 
is  still  to  be  found  a  tombstone  inscribed  with  some 
inferior  lines  to  the  memory  of  the  departed  humorist,  and  with 
a  statement  inaccurate  by  eight  months  of   the  date  of  his  death, 
and  a  year  as  to  his  age.  .  .  .  But  wdierever  the' grave  really  was, 
the  body  interred  in  it,  according  to  the  strange  .story  to  which  I 
have  referred,  is  no  longer  there.     That  stt)ry  goes  that  two  days 
after  the  burial,  on  the  night  of  the  24th  March,  the  corpse  was 
stolen  by  body-snatchers  and  by  them  disposed  to  a  professor  of 
anatomy  at  Cambridge ;  that  the  professor  invited  a  lew  scien- 
tific friends  to  witness  a  demonstration,  and  that  among  them  was 
one  who  had  been  acquainted  with  Sterne,  and  who  fainted  with 
horror  on  recognizing  in  the  already  partially  dissected  '  sul)ject ' 
the  features  of  his  friend. 

This  burial-ground  of  St.  George's,  Hanover  Squai-e, 
situated  in  Oxford  Street,  between  Albion  and  Stanhope 
Streets,  is  not  so  wretched  and  deserted  as  Mr.  Traill  de- 
scribes it.  It  is  green  and  well  cared  for.  Entirely  shut 
out  from  tlie  streets  by  high  walls  and  houses,  its  very 
existence  unknown  to  the  thousands  who  pass  by  it  daily,  it 
is  as  quiet,  secluded,  and  peaceful  as  a  country  churchyard, 
and  in  refreshing  contrast  with  some  of  the  modern  garish 
cemeteries  of  the  metropolis.  Sterne's  memorial,  a  high  but 
plain  flat  stone,  stands  next  to  the  centre  of  the  west  wall  of 
the  grounds,  under  a  spreading  flourishing  old  tree,  whose 
lower  branches  and  leaves  almost  touch  it.  The  inscription 
is  worth  preserving,  and  is  here  given  entire  :  — 


2U4  JOHN   SUCKLING.  [1608-- 


Alas,  Poor  Yorick. 

Near  to  this  Place 

Lies  the  body  of 

The  Kevereiid  Laiiieiiee  Sterne 

D\ed  Sc'iiteiuber  13  ]7('i8 

Aged  53  Years. 

Ah  !  Molliteiossn   quiescaiit. 
If  a  sound  head,  warm  heart  and  lireast  humane, 
UnsuUy'd  worth,  and  soul  without  a  stain, 
If  mental  powers  eould  ever  justly  cdaim 
The  well  won  trilmtc  of  iininortal  fame, 
Stkkne  was  the  Man  who  with  gigantic  stride 
Mow'd  down  luxuriant  follies  far  and  wide, 
Y'et  what  though  keenest  knowledge  of  mankind 
Unseal'd  to  him  the  Sprint^s  that  move  the  mind. 
Wliat  did  it  boot  him,  liidicurd,  abus'd 
By  foes  insulted  and  by  prudes  accus'd. 
In  his,  mild  reader  view  thy  future  fate. 
Like  him  despise  what  t'were  a  sin  to  hate. 

This  monumental  stone  was  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  deceased 
by  two  Brother  Masons,  for  although-  he  did  not  live  to  be  a  member 
of  their  Society,  yet  all  liis  uncomparable  Performances  evidently  prove 
him  to  have  acted  by  Rule  and  Square  ;  they  rejoice  in  this  opportu- 
nity of  perpetuating  his  high  and  unapproachable  character  to  alter 
ages.     W.  &  S. 


JOHN   SUCKLING. 

■  1608 . 

OUCKLING  was  boni  at  Whitton,  in  the  parish  of  Twick- 
^^  enham.  He  is  described  by  Aubrey  as  an  extraordi- 
nary accomplished  gentleman  who  grew  famous  at  Court  for 
his  readie  sparkling  witt,  as  being  uncomparably  readie  at 
repartying,  and  as  the  greatest  gallant  of  his  time.  In 
person,  according  to  the  same  authority,  he  was  of  middle 


JOHN    SUCKLING. 


IGOS .]  JOHN  SUCKLING.  295 

stature  aud  slight  strength,  brisque  eie,  reddish  fac't  and 
red  nose,  (ill  liver)  his  head  not  very  big,  his  hayre  a  kind 
of  sand  coloui\  Cunningham  says  he  lived  in  St.  Martin's 
Lane  in  1G41.  He  died,  a  batchelor,  in  Paris,  andof  poyson, 
Aubrey  believes,  in  1G46,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight. 
Rev.  Alfred  Suckling,  in  bis  '  Biograph}- '  of  the  poet,  writ- 
ten in  1836,  says  that  the  date  of  his  death  is  unknown, 
although  it  was  unquestionably  earlier  than  1642. 

Suckling's  favorite  sister  is  known  to  have  lived  in  Bishops- 
gate  Street,  and  he  was  frequently  in  her  house  there,  which 
contained  the  original  portrait  of  Suckling,  by  Vandyke,  en- 
graved by  Vertue,  and  well  known  to  print-collectors. 

He  was  a  frequenter  of  the  Bear-at-the-Bridge-Foot,  a 
tavern  which  stood  at  the  Southwark  end  of  Old  London 
Bridge  until  17G1,  about  a  hundred  feet  east  of  the  present 
structui'e  (see  Pepys,  p.  238)  ;  and  Aubrey,  in  whose  pages 
we  get  the  fullest  account  of  him,  shows  him  to  have  been 
*  one  of  the  best  bowlers  of  his  time  in  England.  He  play'd 
at  Cards  rarely  well,  and  did  use  to  practise  by  himself  abed, 
and  there  studyed  the  best  way  of  managing  the  Cards.  I 
remember  his  Sisters  comeing  to  the  Piccadillo,  Bowling 
Green,  crying  for  feare  he  should  lose  all  their  portions.' 

'  Piccadillo  Hall,  erected  in  the  fields  beyond  the  mewse, 
a  faire  House  and  two  Bowling  Greenes '  was  on  the  corner 
of  Windmill  and  Coventry  Streets.  It  stood  until  the  end 
of  the  seventeenth  century ;  and  the  Argyll  Rooms,  No.  9 
Great  Windmill  Street,  east  side,  were  built  upon  the  site  of 
its  tennis  court. 

With  all  his  graces  and  accomplishments.  Suckling  has 
left  nothing  behind  him  but  his  immortal  description  of  the 
fair  bride  whose 

'  feet  beneath  her  petticoat 
Like  little  mice  stole  in  and  out, 
As  if  they  feared  the  light.' 


290  EMANTKL    SWKDKXBOlUJ.  [TObS-177: 


EMANUEL  SWEDENBOEG. 

1688-1772. 

OWEDENB0R('.  received  li is  first  spii-itual  manifestations 
^  'at  an  inn  in  London'  in  1743.^  lie  had  been  here 
before  as  a  student  (1710  to  1713);  and  he  made  other 
and  subsequent  visits  to  town,  lodging  in  later  years  at 
No.  26  Great  Bath  Street,  Coldbath  Fields,  where  lie  died 
in  1772.  His  house  is  no  longer  standing.  No.  26  Great 
Bath  Street,  between  Warner  Street  and  Coldbath  Square, 
on  the  west  side  of  the^  way,  was  a  rusty  little  house  in 
1885,  but  probably  not  more  than  half  a  century  old.  The 
street  has  not  been  renumbered. 

Upon  this  Swedenljorg  raised  himself  up  in  bed,  and  placing 

his   liand    upon   his   breast,  said  with  earnestness  :  '  Everything 

tliat  I  have  writt(;n  is  as  true  as  you  now  behold  me ; 

History  of      1  might  have  said  much  more  had  it  been  permitted 

oierkenweli,  After  death  vou  will  see  all,  and  then  Ave  will 

chap.  IV.  ■  ' 

have  much  to  say  to  each  other  on  this  subject.'  He 
told  the  people  of  tlie  house  what  day  he  should  die  ;  and,  as 
Shearsmith's  maid  reported,  he  was  pleased  with  tlie  anticipation  ; 
his  pleasure  was,  according  to  the  maid's  comparison,  like  that 
which  she  would  have  felt  if  she  had  been  going  to  have  a  holiday 
or  some  merry-making.  His  faculties  were  clear  to  the  last.  On 
Sunday,  the  29th  March,  1772,  hearing  the  clock  strike,  he  asked 
liis  landlady  and  her  maid,  who  were  both  at  his  bedside,  what 
o'clock  it  was,  and  upon  being  answered,  he  said,  '  It  is  well.  I 
thank  you,  God  bless  you,'  and  then  in  a  moment  after  he  gently 
gave  up  the  ghost. 

He  is  buried  in  the  Swedish  Church,  Prince's  Square, 
Ratcliffe  Highway  (since  called  St.  George's  Street),  a  mural 
tablet  recording  the  fact. 


1(5(57-1745.]  JOXATHA^    SWIFT.  297 

I  give  one  more  example  of  rubbing  the  grave  of  an  illustrious 
man,  through  the  superstition  of  many  and  the  cupidity  of  one. 
...  In  1790,  in  order  to  determine  a  question  raised 
in  debate,  whether  Swedenborg  was  really  dead  and  ijy.^  si,;iks-' 
buried,  his  wooden  cottin  was  opened,  and  the  leaden  rere's  Bones, 
one  was  sawn  across  the  breast.  A  few  days  after,  a 
party  of  Swedenborgians  visited  the  vault.  'Various  relics' 
(says  AVhite,  'Life  of  Swedenborg,'  2d  ed.,  1868,  p.  675)  'were 
carried  otf.  Dr.  Spurgin  told  me  he  possessed  the  cartilage  of 
an  ear.  Exposed  to  the  air,  the  flesh  quickly  fell  to  dust,  and  a 
skeleton  was  all  that  remained  for  subsequent  visitors.  ...  At 
a  funeral  in  1817,  Granholm,  an  officer  in  the  Swedish  Navy, 
seeing  the  lid  of  Swedenborg's  coffin  loose,  abstracted  the  skull, 
and  hawked  it  about  amongst  London  Swedenborgians,  but  none 
would  buy.  Dr.  Wahlin,  pastor  of  the  Swedish  Church,  recovered 
what  he  supposed  to  be  the  stolen  skull,  had  a  cast  of  it  taken, 
and  placed  it  in  the  coffin  in  1819.' 


JOXATHAN   SWIFT. 

1667-1745. 

OWIFT,  in  his  'Journals  and  Correspondence,'  has  given 
^^  but  few  hints  of  his  various  London  lodging-houses, 
and  these  are  generally  indistinct  and  vague.  He  was  at 
one  time  in  King  Street,  between  St.  James's  Street  and 
St.  James's  Square ;  he  was  the  guest  of  Sir  Andrew  Foun- 
taine  'at  his  house  in  Leicester  Fields,'  and  he  speaks  of 
lodging  'over  against  the  house  in  Little  Ryder  Street,'  — 
afterwards  Eyder  Street,  —  St.  James's.  Within  a  few 
months,  in  1710,  lie  is  known  to  have  occupied  three 
different  sets  of  chambers. 

Sejytcmber  20.  —  T  change  my  lodgings  in  Pall  Mall  for  one  in 
Bury  Street  [St.  James's],  where  I  suppose  I  shall  continue  while 
i  J.  London.  .  .  . 


298  JONATHAN   SWIFT.  [11)07-174:.. 

September  29.  —  1  lotlgc  in  l'>urv  .Street,  where  I  removed  a  week 
SvTfs  ^yo-     I  'j''^'*^  ^1'^'  f'l'^t  """^''  "^  iliuing  and  bed  chamber, 

Jouiiial  to       jit  eight  shillings  a  week,  —  plaguy  dear  ;  but  I  spend 

Stella,  1710.  ,  ■         r  ,-  .  i  1  1 

nothing  for  eating,  never  go  to  a  tavern,  and  very  sel- 
dom in  a  coach  ;  yet,  after  all,  it  will  be  expensive.  .  .  . 

December  28.  —  I  came  home  to  my  new  lodgings  in  St.  Alban's 
Street  [Haymarket],  where  I  pay  the  same  rent  for  an  apartment 
two  pair  of  stairs  ;  but  I  have  the  use  of  the  parlor  to  receive 
persons  of  quality. 

St.  Alban's  Street  was  completely  demolished  on  the  con- 
struction of  Waterloo  Place.  It  is  not  to  be  confounded 
with  the  present  St.  Albans  Place,  which  was  then  Market 
Lane,  and  ran  to  Pall  Mall  as  an  outlet  of  St.  James's 
Market  (see  Baxter,  p.  18). 

In  1711  Swift  was  lodging  in  Chelsea,  to  which  village 
he  frequently  walked  from  town. 

I  leave  my  best  gown  and  periwig  at  Mrs.  Van  Homrigh's, 
then  walk  up  Pall  Mall,  out  at  Buckingham  House  [afterwards 
Swift's  Let-  Buckingham  Palace],  and  so  to  Chelsea,  a  little  beyond 
ters,  1711.  ^j^g  church.  I  set  out  about  sunset,  and  get  there  in 
something  less  than  an  hour.  It  is  two  good  miles,  and  just 
5,748  steps. 

His  house  was  in  'Church  Lane,  half  a  mile  beyond 
Chelsea  Church.'  Church  Lane,  afterwards  Church  Street, 
runs  from  the  river  to  Fulham  Ptoad,  near  which  Swift  must 
have  lived. 

From  Chelsea  he  removed  to  Suffolk  Street,  Haymarket, 
to  be  near  tlie  Van  Homrighs. 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  have  old  places  altered  which  are  connected 
with  interesting  recollections,  even  if  the  place  or  recollection 
Lei-iiiiuiifs  ^^^  ""'"^  *^f  ^^'"  pleasantest.  When  the  houses  in 
TiK^Town,  Suffolk  Street  were  pulled  down,  we  could  not  help 
rearettin"  that  the  abode  was  among  them  in  which 
poor  Miss  Van  Honirigh  lived,  who  died  for  love  of  Swift.  She 
resided  there  with  her  mother,  the  widow  of  a  Dutch  merchant, 


DEAN    SWIFT. 


1G07-I74r..]  JONATHAN   SWIFT.  299 

and  had  a  fortune.  Swii't,  while  in  England  upon  the  affairs  of 
the  Irish  Church,  was  introduced  to  them,  and  became  so  intimate 
as  to  leave  his  best-gowu  and  cassock  there  for  convenience.  He 
f(jund  the  coffee  also  very  pleasant. 

He  next  moved  to  St.  Martin's  Street,  Leicester  Fields, 
and  a  month  later  to  Panton  Street,  Hay  market.  In  1712 
he  lodged  for  a  time  'in  the  Gravel  Pits,  Kensington,'  —  a 
name  given  generally,  in  his  day  and  later,  to  the  region 
north  and  northwest  of  Kensington,  between  Netting  Hill, 
Bayswater,  Kensington  Palace,  and  Holland  House,  and 
since  called  Carapden  Hill. 

In  1725,  when  Swift  returned  to  London  after  a  long 
absence,  he  lodged  for  a  time  with  Gay  in  Whitehall. 

Swift,  lodging  most  probably,  as  we  know  was  his  habit,  in 
later  years  in  some  of  the  siiburljan  purlieus  of  St.  James's,  had 
already  become  a  notable  figure  in  this  companv,  which 

^  Henry 

met  at  Will's  Coffee  House,  in  Bow  Street  [see  Addi-  craik's  Life 
so^%  p.  7],  or  at  the  St.    James's  Coffee   House  [see  g^fpy'v*;' 
Addiso:;,  p.  7],  where  the  Whigs  at  that  time  most 
resorted.  .  .  .  Those  who  frequented  the  place;  had  been  aston- 
ished, day  after  day,  by  the  entry  of  a  clergyman,  unknown  to  any 
there,  who  laid  his  hat  on  the  table,  and  strode  up  and  down  the 
room  with  a  rapid  step,  heeding  no  one  and  absorbed  in  his  own 
thou£;hts.     His  strange  manner  earned  him,  unknown  as  he  was 


'o 


to  all,  the  name  of  the  '  mad  parson.' 

He  was  equally  familiar  with  the  Smyrna  at  the  AVest 
End,  and  with  Pontack's  at  the  City  end  of  the  town ;  and, 
like  so  many  of  his  contempoi'aries,  is  more  easily  traced  to 
his  clubs  and  to  his  taverns  than  to  his  homes  in  London,  if 
his  various  abiding-places  here  can  be  termed  homes.  In 
his  '  Journal  to  Stella,'  he  writes  :  — 

Pautock  told  us  that  although  Iiis  wine  was  not  so  good,  he  sold 
it  cheaper  than  others  ;  he  took  but  seven  shillings  a  flask.  Are 
not  these  pretty  rates  ? 


300  JONATIIAX   SWIFT.  [1007-1745. 

Pantock's  was  in  Abchurch  Lane,  Lombard  Street  (sec 
EvKLYN,  p.  102).  The  street  is  now  composed  of  compara- 
tively modern  business  houses,  and  no  sign  of  Pantock's 
remains.  The  Smyrna  was  in  Pall  Wall,  but  its  position  is 
iniknown. 

Another  of  Swift's  city  taverns  was  Garraway's,  which  has 
long  since  disappeared.  It  stood  in  Change  Alley,  Cornhill ; 
and  its  site  is  mai-ked  by  a  tablet  recording  this  fi\ct,  on  a 
building  facing  Birchin  Lane.  He  frequented  also  the  Devil 
Tavern,  near  Temple  Bar  (see  Jonson,  p.  175);  the  Foun- 
taine,  No.  103  Strand,  which  gave  its  name  to  Fountain 
Court,  called  Savoy  Buildings  in  1885  (see  Johnson,  p.  170) ; 
Button's,  in  Puissell  Street,  Covent  Garden  (see  Addison, 
p.  G);  Ozinda's,  'just  by  St.  James's;'  The  Globe,  No.  134 
Fleet  Street;  and  the  George,  in  Pall  Mall  (see  Steele, 
p.  290). 

He  was  a  member  of  the  October  Club,  which  met  at  the 
Bell  Tavern  in  King  Street,  Westminster  ;  the  Scriblerus 
Club,  which  met  at  different  AVest  End  taverns ;  and  the 
Brothers'  Club,  which  gathered  generally  at  the  Star  and 
Garter  in  Pall  Mall,  opposite  Schomberg  House  (see  Prior, 
p.  247). 

March  20. — I  made  our  society  change  their  house,  and  we 
met  together  at  the  Star  and  Garter,  in  the  Pall  Mall  ;  Lord 
.Tom-nal  to      Arrau  was  President.     The  other  dog  was  so  extrava- 

Stella,  171-2.     ^^^^^  j^^  j^-^  ^jjj^   ^^,^^  ^^^  £^^^^,  J^gJ^^^g^  ^j.^j;   j^j^^J   secoiul 

courses,  without  wine  or  dessert,  he  charged  twenty-one  pounds 
six  shillings  and  eight  pence  to  the  Duke  of  Onnond. 


JOHN    TAYLOR. 


1580-165i.]  JOILX  TAYLOR.  301 

JOHN   TAYLOR. 

1580-1654. 

npAYLOR  was  early  apprenticed  to  a  Thames  waterman, 
■'-  and  for  a  number  of  years  he  was  employed  in  some 
capacity  by  the  governors  of  the  Tower  of  London.  He 
was  called  the  AVater  Poet,  and  is  said  by  tradition  to  have 
'  chop'd  verses '  with  Shakspere,  whose  contemporary  he 
was.  He  relates,  in  his  '  Pennyless  Pilgrimage,'  that  he  set 
out  from  London,  July  14,  1618,  from  'the  Bell  Inn  that's 
Extra  Aldersgate.'  It  was  two  doors  from  the  Barbican, 
but  no  sign  of  it  now^  remains.  In  1647  he  left  the  Rose 
Tavern  on  Holborn  Hill,  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  where  Charles  II.  was  then  staying.  The  Rose  dis- 
appeared some  years  ago.  It  was  on  the  banks  of  the  Fleet 
River,  and  its  site  is  at  the  steps  leading  to  the  Viaduct  on 
the  southeast  corner  of  Farringdon  Street. 

He  died  in  Phoenix  Alley,  Long  Acre,  in  1654. 

John  Taylor,  the  Water  Poet,  kept  a  tavern  in  this  alley.  One 
of  his  last  w^orks  (his  '  Journey  into  Wales,'  1652)  he  describes  as 
'  performed  by  John  Taylor,  dwelling  at  the  sign  of  the  Poet's 
Head,  in  Phcenix  Alley,  near  the  middle  of  Long  Acre.'  He 
supplied  his  own  portrait  and  inscription  :  — 

'  There  's  many  a  head  stands  for  a  sign  ; 
Then,  gentle  reader,  why  not  mine?' 

His  first  sign  was  a  mourning  crown  ;  but  this  was  too  marked 

to  be  allowed.     He  came  here  in  1652,  and,  dying  here 

in  1654,  was  buried,  December  5,  in  the  churchyard  of  ham"s  Hand- 

St.  Martin-in-the-Fields.     His  widow,  it  appears  from  Lo^Jjon^. 

the  rate-books  of  St.  Martin's,  continued  in  the  house,  Phcenix 

Alley, 
under  the  name  of  the  Widow  Taylor,  five  years  after 

his  death.     In  1658  '  Wid(ow)  Taylor '  is  scored  out,  and  '  Mons. 

Lero  '  written  at  the  side.     The  rate  they  paid  was  2/2  a  year. 


302        WILLIAM   MAKEPEACE   THACKERAY.      [1811-18(33. 

Phoenix  Alley,  since  called  Hanover  Court,  runs  from 
No.  55  Long  Acre  to  Hart  Street.  Where  his  tavern  stood' 
cannot  exactly  be  determined ;  but  the  old  house,  numbered 
6  Hanover  Court  in  1885,  at  the  junction  of  the  parishes 
of  St.  Paul,  Covent  Garden,  and  St.  Martin-in-tlie-Fields, 
which  undoubtedly  dates  back  as  far  as  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  was  probably  familiar  to  Taylor  and 
his  friends. 


T 


WILLIAM   MAKEPEACE   THACKERAY. 

1811-1863. 

HACKERAY'S  earliest  experiences  in  London,  like 
those  of  that  kindest  benefactor  society  ever  had, — 
the  Addison  whose  name  he  honored  ;  the  kind,  just,  sin- 
cere, impartial  moralist  and  writer  he  so  dearly  loved,  — 
were  of  the  Charter  House  School  (see  Addison,  p.  1). 
He  was  brought  from  Calcutta  when  very  young,  and  is 
represented  by  one  of  his  schoolmates  (George  Venables,  in 
Trollope's  'Thackeray')  as  a  pretty,  gentle,  rather  timid 
boy,  with  no  skill  in  games,  and  not  much  taste  for  them, 
popular  among  the  boys  he  knew,  but  never  very  happy 
in  his  school  associations  or  daily  life.  He  was  '  on  the 
Foundation,'  wore  a  gown,  and  lived  in  the  school.  In  the 
cloisters  is  a  tablet  to  his  memory,  next  to  that  of  John 
Leech.  His  last  public  appearance  was  at  a  Charter  House 
dinner,  only  a  few  days  before  he  died.  He  gave  the  time- 
honored  Latin  toast,  asking  the  blessing  of  Providence  upon 
the  Foundation,  and  passed  forever  from  the  old  school  with 
a  prayer  upon  his  lips  for  its  success  and  its  perpetuity. 

When  Thackeray  was  called  to  the  bar  in  1834,  and  for 
some   years    afterwards,    he    occupied,    with    Tom   Taylor, 


1811-1863.]      WILLIAM   MAKEPEACE   THACKERAY.        303 

chambers  at  No.  10  Ci'owu  Office  Row,  in  the  Temple, 
where  many  of  his  working  hours  were  spent.  This  build- 
ing is  no  longer  standing. 

He  also  frequently  stopped  at  the  Bedford,  in  Covent 
Garden  (see  Churchill,  p.  51).  In  1837  he  took  his 
young  wife  to  a  house  in  Albion  Street,  Hyde  Park,  not 
many  yards  from  the  grave  of  Sterne  ;  and  lie  lived  there 
and  in  Great  Coram  Street,  near  the  Foundling  Hospital, 
until  the  failing  health  of  Mrs.  Thackeray  forced  him  to 
give  up  housekeeping  altogethei*. 

For  a  time  he  lived  at  No.  88  St.  James's  Street,  in  the 
building  afterwards  known  as  Palace  Chambers ;  but  from 
1847  to  1853  his  home  was  at  No.  13  (in  1885,  No.  16) 
Young  Street,  Kensington,  where  he  wrote  '  Vanity  Fair,' 
'  Pendennis,'  '  Esmond,'  and  portions  of  '  The  Newcomes.' 

I  once  made  a  pilgrimage  with  Thackeray  (at  my  request,  of 
course,  the  visit  was  plauued)  to  the  various  houses  where  his 
books  had  been  written  ;  and   I  remember,  when  we  pjeids-s 
came   to   Young    Street,    Kensington,    he   said,   with  Yesterdays 
mock  gravitj',  '  Down  on  your  knees,  you  rogue,  for  Authors  .- 
here  "  Vanity  Fair"  was  penned  ;  and  I  will  go  down 
with  you,  for  I  have  a  high  opinion  of  that  little  production  my- 
self.'    He  was  always  perfectly  honest  in  his  expressions  about 
his  own  writings,  and  it  was  delightful  to  hear  him  praise  them 
when  he  could  depend  upon  his  listeners.     A  friend  congratulated 
him  once  on  that  touch  in  '  Vanity  Fair '  in  which  Becky  admires 
her  husband  when  he  is  giving  Steyne  the  punishment  which  ruins 
her  for  life.     '  Well,'  he  said,  '  when  I  wrote  that  sentence,  I  slapped 
my  fist  on  the  table,  and  said,  "  That  is  a  touch  of  genius."  ' 

In  1853  Thackeray  took  the  house  No.  36  Onslow  Square, 
South  Kensington,  where  he  wrote  '  The  Virginians,'  etc.,  and 
lived  for  eight  or  nine  years.  Onslow  Square  has  been  renum- 
bered. Thackeray's  was  one  of  a  row  of  uniform  three-storied 
brick  houses  on  the  south  side  of  the  Square  near  Sumner 
Place.      Mrs.  Ritchie  in  a  private  note,  dated  1884,  says  :  — 


304  WILLIAM   MAIvEPEACE   THACKERAY.     [1811-1863. 

Our  old  house  was  the  fourth,  counting  the  end  house,  from 
the  corner  by  the  church  in  Onslow  S(nmro,  the  church  Luing  on 
the  left  hand,  and  the  avenue  of  old  trees  running  in  front  of  our 
drawing-room  windows.  I  used  to  look  up  from  the  avenue  and 
see  my  father's  head  bending  over  his  work  in  the  study  window, 
which  was  over  the  drawing-room. 

The  following  description  of  his  daily  life  here  is  worth 
preserving  :  — 

To  Onslow  Square  I  accordingly  went  on  the  morning  fixed, 

and  found  Mr.  Thackeray  in  his  study  to  receive  me  ;  but  instead 

of  entering  upon  business  in  that  part  of  the  house,  he 

Meni'lfire  of     ^0°^  ^^  upstairs  to  his  bedroom,  where  every  arrange- 

luy  Time,  ment  had  been  made  for  the  convenience  of  writing, 
chap.  XI.   -  ,       .1  •    T  •  • 

I  then  learned  that  he  was  busily  occupied  in  preparing 

his  lectures  on  '  The  Four  Georges,'  and  that  he  had  need  of  an 
amanuensis  to  fill  the  place  of  one  who  was  now  otherwise  occu- 
pied. .  .  .  Often  he  would  light  a  cigar,  and  after  pacing  the 
room  for  a  few  moments  would  put  the  unsmoked  remnant  on 
the  mantelpiece,  and  resume  his  work  with  increased  cheerfulness, 
as  if  he  had  gathered  fresh  inspiration  from  the  gentle  odors  of 
the  sublime  tobacco.  It  was  not  a  little  amusing  to  observe  the 
frequency  with  which  Mr.  Thackeray  would  change  his  position, 
and  I  could  not  but  think  that  he  seemed  most  at  his  ease  when  one 
would  suppose  he  was  most  uncomfortable.  .  .  .  Mr.  Thackeray 
was  in  his  dressing-gown  and  slippers,  and  received  us  in  his 
bedroom,  where,  as  I  have  already  stated,  he  generally  passed 
his  mornings  and  wrote  his  books.  His  study  being  a  small 
back-room  behind  the  dining-room,  on  the  ground  floor,  and 
being  exposed  to  the  noises  from  the  street,  he  had  caused  his 
writing-table  and  appliances  to  be  carried  upstairs  to  the  Second 
floor,  where  two  rooms  had  been  thrown  into  one,  the  back  to  be 
used  as  a  sleeping-chamber,  and  the  front,  which  was  considerably 
larger  than  the  other,  as  a  sitting-room. 

In  1862  Thackeray  moved  to  a  house  he  had  built  for 
himself  at  No.  2  Palace  Green,  Kensington, —  an  imposing 
double  mansion  of  red  brick,  in  bright  gardens  of  its  own. 


1S11-1S63.]     WILLIAM   MAKEPEACE  THACKERAY.  305 

It  is  the  second  house  on  the  left  as  one  enters  the  gate  of 
Kensington  Palace  Gardens,  from  Kensington  High  Street, 
but  has  been  enlarged  and  changed  since  his  day.  Here  he 
died  on  Christmas  eve,  1863. 

The  last  words   he  corrected  in  print  were  :  '  And  my  heart 
throbbed   with  an   exquisite    bliss.'      God    grant   that   on   that 
Christmas  eve    when  he   laid   his  head  back  on  his 
pillow,  and  threw  iip  his  arras  as  he  had  been  wont  to  ujc^kerfs  in 
do  when  verv  weary,  some  consciousness  of  duty  done,  il?"  t-'ornhill 

'  '  .  J  ■>   Magazine, 

and  Christian  hope  throughout  life  humbly  cherished,  January, 
may  have  caused  his  own  heart  so  to  throb  when  he 
passed  away  to  his  Redeemer's  rest.  .  .  .  He  was  found  peace- 
fully lying  as  above  described,  composed,  undisturbed,  and  to  all 
appearance  asleep  on  the  24th  of  December,  1863.  He  was  only 
in  his  fifty-third  year  ;  so  young  a  man  that  the  mother  who 
blessed  him  in  his  first  sleep-  blessed  him  in  his  last ! 

Thackeray  was  buried  in  Keusal  Green  Cemetery  on  the 
30th  of  December,  1863.  Charles  Dickens,  Mark  Lemon,  Dr. 
Russell  of  the  '  Times,'  John  Everett  Millais,  John  Leech  (so 
soon  to  follow  him  and  to  lie  by  his  side),  Anthony  Trollope, 
Robert  Browning,  George  Cruikshank,  Tom  Taylor,  Louis 
Blanc,  Charles  Mathews,  Theodore  INIartin,  and  Shirley  Brooks 
were  among  the  old  friends  who  carried  him  to  his  rest. 

Thackeray's  first  lectures  were  prepared  while  he  was 
living  in  Young  Street,  and  were  delivered  in  the  summer 
of  1851  at  Willis's  Rooms  (formerly  Almack's),  No.  26  King 
Street,  St.  James's  Street,  to  great  crowds  of  the  intellectual 
and  social  lights  of  the  kingdom. 

Charlotte  Bronte  writes  :  — 

London,  June  2  [1851].  —  I  came  here  on  Wednesday,  being 
summoned  a  day  sooner  than  I  expected,  in  order  to 

'■  Mrs.  Gas- 

be  in  time  for  Thackeray's  second  lecture,  which  was  Keii's  Life  of 

delivered  on  Thursday  afternoon.     This,  as  you   may  Brontefvol. 

suppo.se,  was  a  genuine  treat  to  me,  and  T  was  glad  not  "•  '^'^^i'-  ''^• 

to  miss  it.     It  was  given  in  Willis's  Rooms,  where  the  Almack 


306         WILLIAM   MAKErEACE  THACKERAY.      [lSll-1863. 

Balls  are  held  ;  a  great  painted  and  gildeel  saloon,  with  long 
sofas  for  benches.  I  did  not  at  all  expect  the  great  lecturer  would 
know  nie  or  notice  me  under  these  circumstances,  with  admiring 
duchesses  and  countesses  seated  in  rows  before  him  ;  but  he  met 
me  as  I  entered,  shook  hands,  took  me  to  his  mother,  whom  I  had 
not  seen  before,  and  introduced  me. 

Thackeray's   clubs    were   the   Athenteum,   Xo.    107   Pall 
Mall,  the  Garrick,  and  the  Reform,  No.  104  Pall  Mall. 

Thackeray  was  standing  at  the  top  of  tlie  steps  leading  into  the 
Reform  Clul),  the  thumb  and  forefingei-  of  each  hand  in  liis  waist- 
coat pockets,  as  was  constantly  his  wont,  when  Jerrold, 
Hodder's  ^  ,/  '  ,  ^    ,         ,    ■,  ,  , 

Memoirs,        a  lellow-member  oi  the  chib,  was  about  to  enter  the 

ciaj).  x\u.      ijuiiJing.       'Have    you   heard   the   news?'   incpiired 

Thackeray,   as   Jerrold   ascended   the   steps.     *  No,'   replied   the 

latter.      '  The   Prince   is   dead  ;    poor  dear  Gentlewoman  !  *     A 

delicate  piece  of  patronage  bestowed  by  literature  upon  majesty 

itself. 

On  the  Tuesday  he  came  to  his  favorite  club,  the  Garrick,  and 

asked   for   a  seat   at    the   table  of    two  friends,  who  of  course 

welcomed  him,  as  all  welcomed  Thackeray.     It  will 
Shirley  ,        i  V  ■  t    ■,        "  n     ■, 

Brooks,  not  be  deemed   too  minute  a  record    by  any  oi  the 

London  hundreds  who  personally  loved  him,  to  note  Mhere  he 

News,  1S64.     ^^^    j-^j.   ^|^g  i^^^  ti,,,g  ^^  ^^.^^   ^.]^^\^      There  is  in  the 

dining-room  on  the  first  floor  a  nook  near  the  reading-room.  The 
principal  picture  hanging  in  that  nook,  and  fronting  you  as  you 
approach  it,  is  the  celebrated  one  from  the  '  Clandestine  Marriage.' 
Opposite  to  this  Thackeray  took  his  seat  and  dined  with  his 
friends.  He  was  afterwards  in  the  smoke-room,  a  place  in  which 
lie  delighted.  ...  On  Wednesday  he  was  out  several  times,  and 
was  seen  in  Palace  Gardens  reading  a  book.  Before  the  dawn  of 
Thursday  he  was  where  there  is  no  night. 

Dickens  came  rarely  to  the  club  ;  Init  Thackeraj^  was  dearly 
fond  of  it,  and  was  always  there.  I  remember  a  speech 
Yates :  Fifty  of  his  at  an  annual  dinner,  then  always  held  on  Shak- 
London  Life  ^pere's  birthday,  in  which  he  said,  '  We,  the  happy 
chap.  ix.  initiated,  never  speak  of  it  as  the  Garrick  ;  to  us  it  is 
the  G.,  the  little  G.,  the  dearest  place  in  the  world.' 


WILLIAM    MAKEPEACE    THACKERAY. 


1700-1748.]  JAMES   THOMSON.  307 

The  GaiTick  Club,  founded  in  1831,  was  situated  until 
1864  at  No.  35  King  Street,  Covent  Garden,  on  the  north 
side  and  near  the  present  Garrick  Street.  This  was  the  only 
Garrick  Club  that  Thackeray  knew.  The  modern  building 
at  No.  15  Garrick  Street,  Long  Acre,  was  not  .occupied  until 
the  year  after  Thackeray's  death. 


JAMES   THOMSON. 

1700-1748. 

T  X  7HEN  Thomson  first  came  to  London  in  1725,  he  lived 
'  '  in  humble  lodgings  in  the  house  afterwards  num- 
bered 30  Charing  Cross,  between  Cragg's  Court  and  Great 
Scotland  Yard.  Jesse  and  others  believe  it  to  have  been 
the  identical  old  round  front  house  still  standing  there  as 
late  as  1885,  Here  on  the  first  floor  he  spent  some  time 
in  comparative  poverty,  and  here  he  is  said  to  have  written 
part  of  his  '  Summer.' 

Other  portions  of  '  Summer '  were  written  while  he  was 
tutor  in  an  academy  in  Little  Tower  Street,  Eastcheap. 
This  house,  afterwards  No.  12,  has  been  taken  down;  but 
next  to  it,  at  No.  11  Little  Tower  Street,  was,  in  1885, 
the  Ship  Tavern,  as  old  as  Thomson's  day,  and  well  known 
to  the  poet. 

Later  in  life,  when  his  circumstances  were  better,  Thomson 
lived  in  the  West  End  of  London. 

So   charmins;  Thomson  wrote  from  his   lodfrings,  a  milliner's 
in  Bond  Street,  where  he  seldom  rose  early  enough  to  Mrs.  Piozzi's 
see  the  sun  do  more  than  glisten  on  the  opposite  win-  timm''h 
dows  of  the  street.  ^'aly. 


3U8  JAMES   THOMSON.  [1700-1748. 

Thomson  lodged  for  some  time  at  llosedale  House  in  Kcw 
Foot  Lane,  Richmond,  not  far  fi-oni  the  Green.  It  has  been 
greatly  altered,  and  was  in  1885  a  plahi  red  brick  mansion 
near  the  street,  with  a  little  bit  of  lawn  in  front.  '  Kosedale 
House  '  was  painted  upon  its  gateposts.  The  gardens  and 
relics  of  the  poet,  which  were  for  many  years  carefully  pre- 
served here,  have  gradually  disappeared. 

He  died  in  this  house  in  1748 ;  and  a  brass  mural  plate  at 
the  west  end  of  the  north  aisle  of  liichmond  Church  has 
been  placed  above  the  spot  where  he  lies. 

Thomson  received  subscriptions  for  the  '  Seasons '  at  the 
Smyrna  Coffee  House,  Pall  ]Mall  (see  Swift,  p.  300),  and  was 
a  frequent  guest  of  the  Old  Red  Lion  Tavern,  in  St.  John's 
Road,  Islington  (see  Goldsmith,  p.  126). 

Another  favorite  suburban  resort  of  his  was  '  The  Doves,' 
at  Hammersmith,  an  old-fashioned  river-side  public  house, 
still  in  existence  as  late  as  1885,  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
Upper  Mall,  and  a  little  to  the  west  of  the  Suspension 
Bridge.  His  name  and  memory  are  still  held  sacred  here  ; 
and  on  the  door  of  the  adjoining  cottage,  which  in  his 
day  was  part  of  the  inn,  is  a  well-worn,  highly  polished ' 
brass  plate,  upon  which  is  engraved  '  The  Seasons.'  It 
is  believed  that  his  'Winter'  was  conceived  and  written  in 
a  room  in  this  house,  overlooking  the  river,  when  the 
Thames  was  covered  with  ice  and  the  neighboring  country 
with  snow,  ■ —  an  assertion  which  Faulkner,  in  his  'Fulham,' 
.  savs  is  well  authenticated. 


1736-1812.]  JOHN   HORNE   TOOKE.  309 


JOHN   HORNE   TOOKE. 

1736-1812. 

TT  ORNE  TOOKE  was  bom  in  the  house  of  his  father, 
John  Home,  a  poulterer,  and  the  *  Turkey  Merchant ' 
fi-om  whom  the  sou  once  claimed  descent.  His  shop  was  in 
Newport  Market,  which  stood  between  Great  Newport,  Graf- 
ton, and  Litchfield  Streets,  Soho,  but  has  now  disappeared. 

Tooke  spent  two  3'ears  at  Westminster  School  (see 
Churchill,  p.  51)  before  he  went  to  Eton.  In  1756  he 
entered  the  Inner  Temple,  and  from  1760  to  1773  he  was 
curate  of  St.  Lawrence's,  Brentford,  six  miles  from  Hyde 
Park  Corner. 

In  1777  he  was  imprisoned  in  the  Tower  for  his  violent 
and  outspoken  sympathy  with  the  American  colonists  in 
their  rebellion  against  the   mother-country. 

In  1802  Tooke  retired  to  Wimbledon,  where  ten  years 
later  he  died.  His  house  was  on  the  southwest  corner  of 
Wimbledon  Common,  —  a  two-storied  brick  cottage,  still 
standing  in  1885,  facing  the  Green  and  backing  on  the 
Crooked  Billet  and  Hand  in   Hand,  two  old  inns. 

I  often  dined  with  Tooke  at  Wimbledon,  and  always  found  him 
most  pleasant  and  most  witty.     There  his  friends  would  drop  in 
upon  him  without  any  invitation.  .  .  .  Tooke  latterly  Rogers's 
used  to  expect  two  or  three  of  his  most  intimate  friends  '^'^^^^^  "^^^^ 
to  dine  with  him  every  Sunday  ;  and  I  once  offended  him  a  good 
deal  by  not  joining  his  Sunday  dinner-parties  for  several  weeks. 

Tooke  was  buried  in  the  yard  of  Ealing  Old  Church  (St. 
Mary's)  under  an  altar  tomb. 

A  tomb  had  long  been  prepared  for  Mr.  Tooke  in  his  garden 
at  Wimbledon,   in    which  it  was  his  firm  purpose  to  have   been 
29 


310  EDMUND    WALLKK.  [10ur.-lG87. 

Imried  ;  but  uftc'r  liis  decease,  being  opposed  by  his  daughters 
and  an  aunt  of  theirs,  his  remains  were  transferred  to  this 
churchyard,  where  they  were  inteircd  according  to 
IJroiitfoni!  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  Church  of  EngUind, 
Chiswi.;k,"^  otherwise  it  was  his  desire  that  no  funeral  ceremonies 
chap.  ii.  '  should  be  read  over  his  body,  but  six  poor  men  should 
have  a  guinea  each  to  bear  him  lo  the  vault  in  his  garden. 


EDMUND   WALLER. 

1605-1687. 

WALLER  is  said  to  have  been  a  member  of  the  House 
of  Commons  when  he  was  sixteen  or  seventeen  years 
of  age,  and  to  have  been  a  resident  of  London  for  some  time  ; 
but  nothing  is  known  of  his  personal  career  here  except  that 
he  was  married  '  to  his  rich  city  heiress  '  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Margaret,  Westminster,  that  he  lived  at  one  time  in 
Bow  Street,  Covent  Garden,  on  the  site  of  the  Police  Station 
(see  Fielding,  p.  105),  and  that  between  the  years  16G0 
and  1687  he  lived  on  the  west  side  of  St.  James's  Street, 
Piccadilly.  In  the  latter  year  he  went  to  Beaconsfield  to 
die. 

He  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  Berkeley  House,  on  the  site 
of  which  Devonshire  House,  Piccadilly,  between  Berkeley 
and  Stratton  Streets,  was  built ;  and  Aubrey  preserves  the 
story  of  a  catastrophe  that  befell  him  at  the  Water  Gate  of 
Somerset  House,  Strand  :  — 

Waller  had  but  a  tender,  weak  bodie,  but  was  always  very 
temperate.  —  Made  him  damnable  drunk  at  Somerset  House, 
where  at  the  water  stayres  he  fell  down  and  had  a  cruel  fall. 
'T  was  a  pity  to  use  such  a  sweet  swan  so  inhumanly 


1717-1797.]  HORACE    WALPOLE.  311 

The  Somerset  House  of  Waller's  day,  built  by  the  Pro- 
tector, whose  uame  it  bore,  was  taken  down  in  1775  to 
make  way  for  the  present  buildings,  which  were  completed 
in  1786. 


HOEACE   WALPOLE. 

1717-1797. 

TT GRACE  WALPOLE  was  born  on  the  west  side  of 
■*-  -*■  Arlington  Street,  Piccadilly  ;  but  he  afterwards  occu- 
pied the  opposite  house,  No.  5  Arlington  Street,  which  is 
marked  by  the  tablet  of  the  Society  of  Arts  as  having  been 
the  residence  of  his  father.  While  in  town  from  1745  to 
1779  he  lived  here,  and  also  in  his  father's  house  in  Down- 
ing Street,  —  the  official  residence  of  the  first  Lord  of  the 
Treasury  ever  since  Sir  Robert  Walpole's  occupancy  of  it 
in  1735. 

The  greater  part  of  Horace  Walpole's  youth,  however, 
was  spent  in  his  father's  house  at  Chelsea,  afterwards  the 
Infirmary  of  Chelsea  Hospital,  which  was  but  little  changed 
in  1885,  except  that  one  story  had  been  added.  The 
drawing-room  was  Ward  No.   7. 

Walpole  is  now  particularly  associated  with  Strawberry 
Hill,  —  the  house  where  so  many  of  his  days  were  passed, 
and  vipon  which  so  much  of  his  thought  was  spent.  It  still 
stood  in  1885,  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  at  Twicken- 
ham, ten  miles  from  Arlington  Street  and  Berkeley  Square. 

Strawberry  Hill  .  .  .  stands  on  a  gentle  elevation  about  three 
hundred  yards  from,  and  overlooking,  the  Thames  immediately 
above  Twickenham.  .  .  .  When  Walpole  rented  the  house  it  w^as 
little  more  than  a  cottage,  and  the  grounds  were  of  narrow  com- 
pass.    As  soon  as  he  became  its  owner,  he  began  to  enlarge  the 


312  IK^HACE    WALPOLE.  [1717-1797. 

house  and  extend  the  grounds.  Tlie  cottage  grew  into  a  villa,  the 
villa  into  a  niaiisii)n.  .  ,  .  StraAvberry  Hill,  when  completed,  was 

a  Gothic  building,  but  Gothic  of  no  particular  period, 
Thoiiip's  chis^;,  or  stvh3.  Windows,  doorwavs,  and  inould- 
or  the  mgs  of  the  thirteenth  century  stood  side  by  side  with 

London  ? "  Others  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth.  Ecclesiastical 
strawberry     ^^.gj,g  co-mingled  with  secular  features,  collegiate  with 

baronial  or  military.  Next  to  an  Abbey  Entrance 
was  the  oriel  of  an  Elizabethan  Manor-hou.se,  or  the  keep  of  a 
Norman  Castle,  while  battlements  and  machicolation  frowned  over 
the  wide  bay  windows  that  opened  on  to  the  lawn.  .  .  .  Walpole 
was  in  his  thirtieth  year  when  he  took  Strawberry  Hill  ;  and  he 
spent  fifty  summers  in  it,  improving  the  house,  adding  to  his 
collections,  and  enjoying  the  lilacs  and  nightingales  in  his  grounds. 
...  As  it  now  stands  [1876],  Strawberry  Hill  is  a  renewal  of 
Walpole's  house,  with  modern  sumptuousness  superadded.  All 
the  old  rooms  are  there,  though  the  uses  of  many  have  been 
changed.  .  .  .  The  grounds  and  gardens  are  as  beautiful  and 
attractive  as  of  old,  the  trees  as  verdant,  the  rosary  as  bright,  the 
lawn  as  green,  and  in  their  season  Walpole's  '  two  passions,  lilacs 
and  nightingales,'  in  as  full  bloom  and  abundance  as  ever. 

From  1779,  for  eighteen  years,  Walpole's  town  house  was 
No.  11  Berkeley  Square;  and  here,  in  1797,  he  died. 

I  came  to  town  this  morning  [October,  1779]  to  take  possession 
Walpole's  of  Berkeley  Square-,  and  was  as  well  pleased  with  my 
]'^^l^^^'       new  habitation  as  I  can  be  with  anything  at  present. 

This  mansion  was  on  the  southwest  corner  of  Hill  Street, 
and  was  numbered  42  Berkeley  Square  in  1885. 

Walpole  was  a  member  of  Brooks's  Club,  No.  60  St. 
James's  Street,  among  others,  and  of  the  Blue  Stocking 
Club,  which  met  'at  Mrs.  Montague's,  on  the  northwest 
corner  of  Portman  Square.' 

He  frequented  Dodsley's  shop,  at  the  sign  of  the  Tully's 
Head,  No.  51  Pall  Mall  (see  Akenside,  p.  11);  and  the 
Bedford  Coffee  House,  '  under  the  Piazza,  in  Covent  Garden ' 
(see  Churchill,  p.  51). 


1593-1683.]  IZAAK   WALTON.  '     313 


IZAAK   WALTON. 

1593-1683. 

/^F  Walton's  youth  and  education  nothing  is  known. 
^-^  Anthony  Wood  found  him  engaged  as  a  '  sempster,'  or 
linen-draper,  in  the  Eoyal  Burse,  Cornhill  (on  the  site  of 
the  Royal  Exchange),  where  his  shop  was  seven  feet  and  a 
half  long,  and  five  feet  wide.  Later,  he  occupied  half  a  shop 
in  Fleet  Street,  between  Chancery  Lane  and  Temple  Bar. 

Walton  dwelt  on  the  north  side  of  Fleet  Street,  in  a  house  two 
doors  west  of  the  end  of  Chancery  Lane,  and  abutting  on  a  mes- 
suage known  by  the  sign  of  The  Harrow.   .  .  .  Now  the 
old  timber 'house  at  the  Southwest  corner  of  Chancery  Hawkins's 
Lane,  till  within  these  few  years  [1760]  was  known  by  ^^i(.°q 
that  sign  ;  it  is  therefore  beyond  doubt  that  Walton 
lived  at  the  very  next  door,  and  in  this  House  he  is,  in  the  deed 
above  referred  to,  which  bears  date  1621,  said  to  have  followed  the 
trade  of  a  Linen  Draper.     It  further  appears  by  that  deed,  that 
the  house  was  in  the  joint  occupation  of  Isaac  Walton  and  John 
Mason,  hosier,  from  whence  we  may  conclude  that  half  a  shop 
was  sufficient  for  the  business  of  Walton. 

He  subseqviently  removed  into  Chancery  Lane. 

Isaac  Walton  lived  in  what  was  then  the  seventh  Cunning- 
house  on  the  left  hand  as  you  walk  [in  Chancery  Lane]  g"",^''  f^^"^' 
from  Fleet  Street  to  Holborn.     Sir  Harris  Nicolas  de-  London  : 

.  .  Chancery 

rived  this  information  from  the  Parish  Books.  Lane. 

This  house  is  believed  to  have  stood  next  to  Crown  Court, 
on  the  site  of  the  house  numbered  120  Chancery  Lane  in 
1885. 

Walton  quitted  London  in  1G43. 


314  IZAAK  WALTON.  [1593-1683. 

Finding  it  dangerous  for  lionest  lueii  to  be  there,  he  left  the 

city,  and  lived  some  time  at  Stafford  and  elsewhere, 

Atiieii*         hut  mostly  in  the  families  of  eminent  clergymen  of 


Uxoiuenses. 


England,  l>y  whom  he  was  much  beloved. 


Walton  lived  in  the  parish  of  Clerkenvvell  after  his  re- 
tirement from  business  ;  and  here,  according  to  the  parish 
registers,  were  baptized,  in  St.  James's  Church,  February 
10,  1650,  his  sou  Izaak  Walton,  and  again,  on  September  7, 
1651,  another  son  Izaak  Walton.  Both  of  these  children 
died  in  early  infanc}'.  lu  1G53,  while  still  living  in  Clerk- 
enwell,  '  There  is  published  a  book  of  eighteen  pence  price 
called  the  Compleat  Angler  ;  or  contemplative  man's  recrea- 
tions, being  a  discourse  of  Fisli  and  Fishing,  not  unworthy  of 
perusal.  Sold  by  Eichard  Marriot  in  St.  Dunstan's  Church 
Yard,  Fleet  Street.' 

The  antiquarians  of  Clerkenwell,  unfortunately,  have  been 
able  to  find  no  trace  of  the  site  of  Walton's  house,  either 
from  tradition  or  the  rate-books. 

Walton  bought  his  fish-hooks  at  the  shop  of  one  Charles 
Kerbye,  in  Harp  Alley,  Shoe  Lane,  a  street  entirely  changed 
since  Walton's  day  ;  and  he  was  fond  of  fishing  the  Lea  from 
Ware  to  Tottenham. 

The  Swan  Inn  at  Tottenham  High  Cross  was  the  place  of 
wnuiani  resort  of  Izaak  Walton,  the  angler  ;  he  used  to  tarry 
Bobinson's     ]jere  awhile  before  he  went  to  the  river  Lea  to  fish, 

History  <if  i       p  r    i  •     -i 

Tottenham,  and  again  on  his  return.  In  the  front  of  this  house  m 
\o.  1.  p.  .  ^^^  ^^^^  1(543^  there  was  an  harbour,  the  favorite  rest- 
ing place  of  Walton,  of  which  mention  is  made  in  the  '  Complete 
Angler.' 

The  White  Swan  Inn  was  left  intact  in  1885,  on  the  north- 
west corner  of  Tottenham  High  Cross,  between  the  Cross 
itself,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  High  Road,  and  the  old 
well.  It  stood  a  little  back  from  the  street,  —  a  white 
stuccoed  house  of  one  story  and  an  attic,  with  a  quaint  old 


1667-1731.]  EDWARD   WARD.  315 

gable.  There  was  a  skittle  alley  in  its  rear,  and  a  little  bit 
of  bright  garden  at  its  side,  —  all  that  was  left  of  the  gentle 
anglei"'s  sweet  shady  arbor,  woven  by  Nature  herself,  with 
her  own  fine  fingers,  of  woodbine,  sweet-brier,  jessamine, 
and  myrtle.  While  a  drink  like  nectar  was  still  brewed  in 
the  interesting  old  inn,  no  fishermen  went  there  to  sup  it 
in  the  last  quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  Izaak 
Walton  was  absolutely  unknown  to  those  who  served  or 
quaffed  it.  The  river  Lea  is  about  five  minutes'  walk  from 
the  doors  of  the  Swan, 

One  of  the  most  interesting  memorials  of  ^Walton  left  us 
is  the  monogram  'I.  W.'  and  the  date  '  1658  '  sci-atched  by 
Walton  himself  on  the  mural  tablet  to  Isaac  Casaubon  in  the 
south  transept  of  Westminster  Abbey.  Dean  Stanley  was 
very  fond  of  pointing  this  out  to  his  pei'sonal  friends  as  he 
escorted  them  to  the  Poets'  Corner  ;  and  it  is  the  oidy 
desecration  ever  committed  in  the  Abbey  that  he  heartily 
forgave. 


EDWARD   WARD. 

1667-1731. 

"NT  ED  WARD,  the  droll  author  of  the  '  London  Spy,'  is 
^  said  by  William  Oldys  to  have  lived  for  a  while  in 
Gray's  Inn,  and  later  to  have  kept  a  public  house  in  Moor- 
fields,  afterwards  in  Clerkenwell,  and  lastly  a  punch-house  in 
Fulwood's  Rents.  His  Clerkenwell  establishment  he  de- 
scribed '  as  at  the  Great  Gates  in  Red  Bull  Yard,  between  St. 
John  Street  and  Clerkenwell  Green  ; '  and  he  claimed  that  on 

'  That  ancient  venerable  ground, 

Wliere  Shakspere  in  heroic  buskin  ti'od, 
A  good  old  fabric  may  be  found, 

Celestial  liquor.s  fit  to  charm  a  god. ' 


^16  ISAAC    WATTS.  [1«74-1748. 

This  alludes  to  the  uulbuuded  tradition  that  Shakspere 
was  a  player  iu  the  Red  Bull  Theatre,  iu  Ked  EuU  Yard, 
which  has  since  been  called  Woodbridge  Street  (see  Dave- 
NANT,  p.  75,  and  Shakspere,  p.  2G4). 

Fulwood's  Rents,  at  No.  34  High  Holborn,  nearly  opposite 
Chancery  Lane,  contained  in  1885  a  number  of  very  old  and 
dilapidated  buildings,  doubtless  standing  there  in  Ward's 
time.  His  house,  according  to  Oldys,  was  '  within  one  door 
of  Gray's  Inn,'  and  here  '  he  would  entertain  any  company 
that  invited  him,  with  many  stories  and  adventures  of  the 
poets  and  authors  he  had  acquaintance  with.' 

He  died  at  this  house,  and  was  buried  in  Old  St.  Paucras 
Churchyard  (see  Godwin,  p.  118)  in  the  most  quiet  manner, 
and  iu  accordance  with  the  directions  of  his  poetic  will :  — 

'  No  costly  funeral  prepare  ; 

'TwLxt  Sun  and  Sun  I  only  crave 
A  hearse  and  one  black  coach  to  bear 
My  wife  and  children  to  my  grave.' 


ISAAC  WATTS. 

1674-1748. 

TSAAC  WATTS  came  to  London  in  1690  to  enter  the 
•^  College  for  Dissenters  in  Newington  Green  (see  De  Foe, 
p.  76).  In  1693  he  'was  admitted  to  Mr.  Eowe's  Church,' 
which  then  worshipped  at  Girdlers'  Hall,  still  standing  in 
1885,  at  Nos.  38  to  40  Basinghall  Street.  In  1698-99  'he 
preached  as  Dr.  Chauncey's  assistant  in  Ye  Church  in  Mark 
Lane '  (City).  His  connection  with  this  congregation  lasted 
until   his   death,   fifty   years   later.     In  June,   1704,   as  is 


1674-1748.]  ISAAC   WATTS.  *  317 

recorded  in  his  Diary,  '  we  removed  our  meeting  place  to 
Pinner's  Hall  [Old  Broad  Street,  see  Baxter,  p.  18],  and 
began  exposition  of  Scripture.'  In  1708  the  congregation 
removed  again  to  Duke's  Place,  Bury  Street,  St.  jNIary  Axe ; 
but  there  is  now  no  trace  left  of  either  of  these  chapels. 

Watts  lived  with  '  Mr.  Thomas  Mollis  in  the  Minories '  in 
1702,  and  here  probably  wrote  the  poems  which,  in  his 
Diary,  he  says  were  published  in  1705.  In  1710  he  're- 
moved from  Mr.  Hollis's  and  went  to  live  with  Mr.  Bowes, 
December  30.'  With  this  year  his  brief  and  unsatisfactory 
Diary  ends ;  and  his  biographers  have  not  cared  to  say  more 
definitely  where  his  homes  in  London  were  situated. 

In  the  year  1713  or  1714  he  became  a  guest  in  the  house 
of  Sir  Thomas  Abney,  at  Theobalds,  Cheshuut,  Herts,  about 
fifteen  miles  from  London.  Subsequently  he  went  with  the 
Abneys  to  Stoke  Newington ;  and  in  1748  died  in  their 
house  at  the  end  of  a  somewhat  protracted  visit  of  thirty-five 
years. 

Sir  Thomas  Abney's  house  at  Stoke  Newington  was  taken 
down  in  1844,  and  its  site  is  now  occupied  by  Abney  Park 
Cemetery,  in  which  stands  a  statue  of  Watts. 

Dr.  Watts  was  buried  in  Bunhill  Fields  — 

deep  in  the  earth,  among  the  relics  of  many  of  his  pious  fathers 
and  brethren  whom  he  had  known  in  the  flesh,  and  with  whom 
he  wished  to  be  found  in  the  resurrection.  ...  In 
order  that   his  grave   might  read   a  lecture  of  that  MUner's^Sfe 
moderation  which    his  life  had    exemplified   and  his  of  Watts, 

•  _  t  chap,  xviii. 

pen  advocated,  he  desired  that  his  funeral  should  be 
attended  by  two  Independent  ministers,  two  Presbyterian  and  two 
jBaptist. 

An  altar  tomb  covers  his  grave,  in  the  northeastern  comer 
of  the  ground,  not  far  fi'om  the  City  Eoad  entrance. 


n 


18  JOILN    WESLEY.  [1703-179L 


JOHN    WESLE\. 

1703-1791. 

T  "X  7ESLEY  was  sent  at  an  early  age  to  the  Charter  House 
^  *  School  (see  Addison,  p.  1),  from  wliich  he  went 
to  Oxford  in  1720.  In  after  life  he  frequently  asserted 
that  much  of  his  good  health  was  due  to  the  command  of 
his  father  that  he  should  run  around  the  Charter  House 
playground  thi'ee  times  every  morning, — a  task  whicli  he 
conscientiously  performed. 

For  some  years  Wesley  was  pastor  of  the  congregation 
which  worshipped  in  Pinner's  Hall,  Old  Broad  Street  (see 
Baxter,  p.  18)  ;  and  he  preached  at  Bromley,  and  at  the 
Foundry  at  Moorfields,  which  stood  on  the  site  of  the 
Chapel  subsequently  erected  in  Tabernacle  Row,  Finsbury, 
near  City  Road. 

In  1752  Wesley  took  possession  of  the  New  Wells,  a 
place  of  po])ular  amusement  in  Clerkenwell,  which  he  opened 
as  a  tabernacle,  and  in  which  he  preached.  It  stood  on 
Lower  Rosoman  Street,  on  the  site  of  the  houses  afterwards 
numbered  5,  6,  7,  and  8,  according  to  Pink  in  his  'History 
of  Clerkenwell ; '  and  it  was  taken  down  shortly  after  the 
expiration  of  Wesley's  lease.  Wesley  preached  Whitefield's 
funeral  sermon  (1770)  in  the  Tottenham  Court  Road  Chapel, 
in  188.5  numbered  79  Tottenham  Court  Road ;  ^^  and  in 
1777  he  laid  the  foundation  stone  of  the  Chapel,  No.  48 
City  Road,  opposite  the  Cemetery  of  Bunhill  Fields,  where, 
as  Southey  shows,  great  multitudes  assembled  to  hear  and 
see  him,  and  assist  at  the  ceremony. 

Opposite  the  Eastern  Gate  of  the  Artillery  Ground  in  the  City 
Road  is  a  handsome  Chapel,  built  by  the  late  Rev.  John  Wesley, 


JOUN    WESLEY. 


1703-1791.]  JOHN   WESLEY.  319 

for  the   Methodists  of  the  Arininian  persuasion.     It  is  a  plain 

structure  of  brick,  the  interior  verj^  neat  ;  there  is  also  a  spacious 

Court  behind  the  building,  planted  with  some  trees, 

?     .  1        1      d     i.     r      \  •  \  Brayley  s 

and  uniform  houses  on  each  side,  the  nrst  ot  wnicn  on  London  and 

the  right  hand,   entering   from   the  City   Road,   was  voul'r''' 
occupied   by   Mr.   John    Wesley  when   in  town,  and 
that  also  in  which  he  died. 

'Wesley's  House,'  so  marked,  is  in  front  of  this  chapel, 
and  in  1885  was  numbered  47  City  Road. 

During  his  lust  illness  Wesley  said  :  '  Let  me  be  buried  in 
nothing  but  what  is  woollen  ;  and  let  my  corpse  be  carried  in  my 
coffin  into  the  chapel.'  This  was  done  according  to  go„^,,gj,,g 
the  will,  by  six  poor,  men,  each  of  whom  had  20/  ;  Life  of  Wes- 
'  for  I  particularly  desire,'  said  he,  '  that  there  may  be  ''^' '°  '  "' 
no  hearse,  no  coach,  no  escutcheon,  no  pomp,  except  the  tears  of 
them  that  love  me,  and  are  following  me  to  Abraham's  bosom.' 
On  the  day  preceding  the  interment,  Wesley's  body  lay  in  the 
chapel  in  a  kind  of  state  becoming  the  person,  dressed  in  his 
clerical  habit,  with  gown,  cassock,  and  band,  the  old  clerical  cap 
on  his  head,  a  Bible  in  one  hand,  and  a  white  handkerchief  in  the 
other.  .  .  .  The  crowds  who  flocked  to  see  him  were  so  great  that 
it  was  thought  prudent,  for  fear  of  accident,  to  accelerate  the 
funeral,  and  perform  it  between  five  and  six  in  the  morning. 
The  intelligence,  however,  could  not  be  kept  entirely  secret,  and 
several  hundred  persons  attended  at  that  unusual  hour. 

As  I  was  walking  home  one  day  from  my  father's  bank,  I 
observed  a  great  crowd  of  people  streaming  into  a  chapel  in  the 
City  Road.  I  followed  them,  and  saw  laid  out  u]3on  Rogers's 
a  table  the  dead  body  of  a  clergyman  in  full  canoni-  '^^'^^^  ^'^'^• 
cals.  It  was  the  corpse  of  John  Wesley ;  and  the  crowd  moved 
slowly  and  silently  round  the  table  to  take  a  last  look  at  that 
most  venerable  man. 

Wesley  lies  in  the  little  burial-ground  behind  the  City 
Road  Chapel,  under  a  monument  erected  to  his  memory 
by  the  members  of  the  society  to  which  he  gave  his  name. 


320  JOHN  woLCOT.  [1738-1819. 


GEORGE   WITHER. 

1588-1667. 

"\^  EITHER,  whose  famous  sheplierd  refused  to  waste  in 
^  *  despair  and  die  because  a  certain  fair  woman  was 
not  fair  to  him,  was  a  student  of  Lincohi's  Inn,  and  wrote 
his  best-known  poem  in  the  Marshalsea  Prison.  Later  he 
was  confined  —  always  for  pohtical  reasons — in  Newgate 
and  in  the  Tower.  This  was  not  the  Marshalsea  Prison 
of  Dickens's  youth.  It  stood  on  the  east  side  of  the  Borough 
High  Street,  opposite  Union  Street  and  next  to  the  Nag's 
Head,  the  modern  Newcomen  Street  passing  over  its  site. 
The  Marshalsea  Debtors'  Prison  was  nearer  St.  George's 
Church  (see  Dickens,  p.  80). 

Wither  died,  it  was  said,  in  the  Savoy,  and,  according  to 
AVood's  '  Athense  Oxonienses,'  was  buried  '  between  the  east 
door  and  south  end  '  of  the  Church  of  St.  Mary -le- Savoy, 
known  now  as  the  Savoy  Chapel,  Savoy  Street,  Strand 
(see  Chaucer,  p.  46).  This  church  dates  back  to  the  very 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  hnt  has  no  memorial  of 
Wither. 


JOHN   WOLCOT. 

1738-1819. 

'  pETER  PINDAR'S  '  first  i)ermaneut  home  in   London 

was  at  No.   1   Chapel    Street,  next  to  the  corner  of 

Great  Portland  Street,   Portland    Place,    where    he   lodged 

about  the  year  1782.     The  Portland  Hotel  has  since  been 


GEORGE    WITHER. 


1770-1850.]  WILLIAM   WOKDSWORTH.  321 

erected  on  the  site  of  this  house.  Later  ho  occupied  a 
garret  room  in  No.  13  Tavistock  Row,  overlooking  Covent 
Garden  and  near  Southampton  Street ;  and  in  1807  he  was 
lodging  in  Camden  Town,  then  a  suburban  village,  while 
he  figured,  not  very  creditably,  in  the  law  courts.  He  died 
twelve  years  later,  near  the  nursery  gardens  which  have 
since  become  Euston  Square. 

He  always  sat  in  a  room  facing  the  south.     Behind  the  door 
stood  a   square   piano-forte,  on   which    there  generally   lay   his 
favorite  Cremona  violin  ;  on  the  left,  a  mahogany  tal)le 
with   writing   materials.     Everything  was  in   perfect  ReeoUec- 
order.  .  .  .  Facing  him,  over  the  mantelpiece,  hung  a  p"^^  yggj.g 
fine  landscape   by   Richard   Wilson.  ...  In  writing, 
except  a  few  lines  hap-hazard,  the  Doctor  was  obliged  to  employ  an 
amanuensis  [he  lost  his  eyesight  a  few  years  before  his  death]. 
Of  all   his  acquisitions,  music  to  him  remained  alone  unaltered. 
.  .  .  He  even  composed  light  airs  for  anuisement. 

Wolcot  was  buried  in  the  Church  of  St.  Paul,  Covent 
Garden,  at  his  own  request  that  he  might  '  lie  as  near  as 
possible  to  the  bones  of  old  Hudibras  Butler.'  His  grave  is 
believed  to  be  under  the  floor  of  the  vestrv-room  ;  but  there 
is  no  tablet  to  his  memory  (see  Butler,  p.  29). 


WILLIAM   WOEDSWOETH. 

1770-1850. 

T  X  70RDSW0RTH  made  frequent  visits  to  London,  and 
*  *  we  read  of  him  here  as  the  guest  of  Rogers,  Lamb, 
Coleridge,  Crabb  Robinson,  and  others ;  but  nowhere  in  his 
Diary,  his  Memoirs,  his  published  letters,  or  in  the  works  of 
his  friends  and  contemporaries,  is  any  hint  given  as  to  his 
30 


322  WILLIAM   WYCHERLEY.  [1640-1715. 

abiding-places  in  town."  While  he  was  more  closely  identi- 
fied with  Yarrow  or  the  Lake  District  than  with  the  stream 
tli:it  flows  through  the  vale  of  Chcapside,  still  he  has  left  a 
tlirush  in  the  branches  of  the  old  tree  on  the  corner  of  Wood 
Street,  that  will  sing  there  as  long  as  yellow  primroses  grow 
by  rivers'  brims. 


WILLIAM   WYCHERLEY. 

Circa  1640-1715. 

T  1 /"YCHERLEY  was  entered  as  a  student  in  the  Middle 
'  ^  Temple,  but  soon  turned  from  the  dry  study  of  the 
law  to  lighter,  looser,  and  more  beloved  pursuits.  His  only 
known  residence  in  London  was  in  Bow  Street,  Covent 
Garden,  '  over  against  the  Cock.'  According  to  Peter  Cun- 
ningham, it  was  on  the  west  side  of  Bow  Street,  and  '  three 
doors  beyond  Radcliffe,'  whose  house  is  known  to  have  been 
on  the  site  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre.  This  Cock  Tavern 
long  since  disappeared. 

It  was  here  that  Charles  II.  called  upon  Wycherley  while 
he  was  lying  ill,  —  a  very  unusual  compliment  of  royalty  to 
a  commoner  ;  and  the  result  of  the  visit  was  a  gift  of  £500, 
out  of  the  public  purse,  to  enable  the  dramatist  to  seek  rest 
and  strength  in  France.  Wycherley,  however,  soon  in- 
curred the  displeasure  of  Charles  by  his  marriage  to  a  Court 
lady,  the  Countess  of  Drogheda,  whom  he  visited  in  Hatton 
Garden,  and  carried,  as  his  wife,  to  Bow  Street.  This 
unequal  match  brought  as  little  happiness  to  either  party 
as  did  that  of  Addison  and  his  Countess ;  and  Wycherley's 
contemporaries  have  put  on  record  many  entertaining  stories 
of  his  married  life,  his  wife  being  so  jealous  of  him  that  he 


WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH. 


1640-1715.]  WILLIAM   WYCHERLEY.  323 

was  rarely  permitted  to  quit  her  side.  It  is  said  that  when 
he  visited  the  Cock  he  was  ordered  to  leave  open  the  win- 
dows of  the  room  in  which  he  sat,  and  to  show  himself  from 
time  to  time,  that  the  exacting  lady  over  the  way  might  be 
assured  that  all  his  companions  were  of  his  own  sex. 

Another  and  more  serious  result  of  this  union  was  his 
confinement  for  several  years  in  the  Fleet  Prison  ;  his  dis- 
putes concerning  his  marriage  settlements  with  the  Countess 
resulting  in  his  financial  ruin  and  in  his  committal  to  a 
debtors'  gaol. 

The  Fleet  Prison,  destroyed  in  the  Gordon  Riots  in  1780, 
but  immediately  rebuilt,  stood  on  the  east  side  of  the  present 
Farringdon  Street  until  1846.  Its  exact  site  may  be  de- 
scribed as  upon  the  block  of  ground  bounded  on  the  west  by 
Farringdon  Street,  on  the  cast  by  Fleet  Lane,  on  the  north 
by  Fleet  Lane,  and  on  the  south  by  Fleet  Lane.  It  was 
approached  from  the  Old  Bailey  by  Fleet  Lane,  an  irregular 
street  shaped  like  the  letter  Y. 

Wycherley  was  married  a  second  time  in  1715,  but  died 
eleven  days  after  the  ceremony.  He  was  buried  in  the 
vaults  of  the  Church  of  St.  Panl,  Covent  Garden.  All 
traces  of  his  grave  were  lost  in  the  burning  of  the  chnrch 
in  1795  (see  Butler,  p.  29). 

Favorite  taverns  of  Wycherley,  besides  the  Cock,  were  the 
Half  Moon  in  Aldersgate  Street,  marked  by  Half  Moon  Pas- 
sage, No,  158  Aldersgate  Street  (see  Congreve,  p.  64),  and 
the  Bear  at  the  Bridge  Foot  (see  Pepys.  p.  238). 


324  EDWARD  YOUNG.  [1681-1765. 

EDWARD  YOUNG. 

1681-17G5. 


D 


iR.  YOUNG  had  almost  no  association  with  London 
except  in  his  marriage  at  the  Church  of  St.  Mary-at- 
Hill,  in  Love  Lane,  Eastchcap,  May  27,  173L  This  church, 
one  of  Wren's,  was  still  standing  in  1885.  The  death  of  his 
wife  in  1740  led  to  the  writing  of  the  famous  'Night 
Thoughts,'  which  established  his  reputation  and  is  so 
rarely  read.  He  lived  and  died  in  his  country  parish  in 
Hertfordshire. 


NOTES. 


*  Colonel  F.  Grant,  in  a  letter  to  the  London  *  Athenseura,' 
Aug.  1,  1885,  writes  that  a  directory  of  London  printed  for  Sam.  Lee, 
1677,  is  in  the  Bodleian,  and  that  two  other  copies  of  the  same  work 
are  known  to  exist. 

2  The  'Builder'  (London),  Sept.  19,  1885,  says:  'The  Royal 
Comedy  Theatre  in  Panton  Street  should,  we  believe,  be  instanced  as 
marking  the  situation  of  Addison's  Haymarket  lodging,  which  Pope 
showed  to  Harte  as  being  the  garret  where  Addison  wrote  ' '  The 
Campaign."  ' 

3  The  Chapter  Coffee  House,  Paternoster  Row,  was  torn  down  in 
1887,  but  rebuilt  upon  the  same  site. 

*  The  Rev.  Robert  Gwynne,  in  a  private  note  dated  Sept.  1,  1885, 
writes  :  'In  revising  Baedekei-'s  "London  "  I  had  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
in  finding  out  that  24,  not  16,  Holies  Street  was  the  birthplace  of 
Byron.  I  consulted  Mr.  Cordy  Jeaffresou,  author  of  "The  Real  Lord 
Byron  ; "  Mr.  Grace,  the  decorator  in  Wigmore  Street,  whose  father  col- 
lected the  views,  maps,  etc.,  of  London,  now  in  the  British  Museum  ; 
Mr.  Fry,  the  present  owner  of  No.  24  Holies  Street,  and  Mr.  John 
Murray,  Jr.  .  .  .  Mr.  Fry  informed  me  that  24  Holies  Street  is  the 
only  house  in  the  street  that  has  been  rebuilt.  The  tablet  in  accord- 
ance with  tradition  is  in  front  of  this  house.  Peter  Cunningham,  in 
his  "  London,"  gives  as  his  authority  for  naming  No.  16  as  the  birthplace 
a  paper  in  Mr.  Murray's  possession.  Mr.  John  Murray,  Jr.,  and  I 
examined  the  paper,  which  is  a  tradesman's  bill,  and  we  were  both 
convinced  that  the  document  does  not  bear  out  Mr.  Cunningham's 
statement.' 

5  Long's  Hotel,  No.  16  New  Bond  Street,  was  taken  down  in  1887. 

s  The  'Baptist,'  London,  June  19,  1885,  saj^s  that  Cowper  spent 
one  morning  in  town  when  lie  'breakfasted  with  his  friend  Rose  in 
Chancery  Lane  in  1792,  when  returning  from  Eartham,  the  residence 
of  Hayley,  a  brother  poet.' 


32G  NOTES. 

^  The  extreme  rear  of  tlie  Marshalsea  Prison  wliicli  Dickens  de- 
scribes in  the  Preface  to  '  Little  Dorrit '  was  trausfornied  into  a  ^va^e- 
house  in  1887. 

*  The  old  house  No.  16  Fetter  Lane  was  demolished  in  1887. 

^  A  writer  in  the  '  British  Quarterly  Review,'  October,  1885,  says 
that  in  the  company  of  tin;  late  Mr.  AV.  Smith  Williams,  he  frequently 
saw  Leigh  Hunt  in  his  house  at  Hammersmith,  and  'admired  the 
taste  which  he  managed  to  communicate  to  his  small  rooms,  and  also 
the  graceful  garrulousness  and  suavity  of  the  old  man  in  his  long  black 
robe,  and  his  long  white  hair.' 

1"  The  British  Hotel,  Cockspur  Street,  was  torn  down  in  1887; 
Stanford,  the  publisher  of  maps,  building  upon  its  site. 

^1  The  Cock  Tavern,  Fleet  Street,  was  taken  down  in  1887,  and 
a  branch  of  the  Bank  of  England  was  built  upon  its  site. 

1-  Subsequent  research  shows  that  the  Margaret  Jonson  who  was 
married  in  1575,  according  to  the  register  of  St.  Martins-in-the- 
Fields,  died  in  1590;  while  the  mother  of  Ben  Jonson  is  known  to  have 
been  alive  as  late  as  1604. 

13  Mr.  Sidney  Colvin,  in  his  'Life  of  Keats'  (English  Men  of 
Letters  Series),  says  that  Keats  lived  over  the  Queen's  Head  in  the 
Poultry  in  1816,  and  moved  to  No.  76  Cheapside  during  the  ne.xt 
year.  No.  76  Cheapside  was  rebuilt  in  1868.  It  was  in  this  house, 
according  to  Peter  Cunningham,  that  Keats  wrote  his  Sonnet  on  Chap- 
man's '  Homer. ' 

1*  Holly  Lodge,  named  Airlie  Lodge,  when  it  was  occupied  by  an 
Earl  of  Airlie,  has  since  been  given  its  old  name,  and  was  called  Holly 
Lodge  in  1887. 

1^  Edward  Walford,  in  his  'Greater  London,'  vol.  ii.  p.  Ill,  writes: 
'Suffice  it  to  say  that,  beyond  his  tomb  at  Twickenham,  the  only 
memorials  of  the  poet  [Pope]  now  visible  are  the  gardens  and  the  fa- 
mous grove  in  which  he  took  such  great  delight,  and  also  the  gi-otto,  or 
rather  the  timnel,  for  it  has  been  despoiled  of  many  of  its  rare  marbles, 
spars,  and  ores,  and  is  now  a  mere  damp  subway.' 

16  The  old  house  at  No.  96  Piccadilly  was  torn  down  in  1887, 
and  the  Junior  Travellers'  Club  was  built  upon  its  site. 

1^  Mr.  Jeaffreson  believes  that  this  hotel  in  Dover  Street  was  only 
an  occasional  resort  of  Shelley's,  and  that  the  fact  of  his  writing  there 
a  letter  announcing  his  child's  birth  is  not  sufficient  evidence  that  the 
event  occurred  on  the  premises 


NOTES.  •  327 

'*  The  house  of  Dr.  Matthew  BaiUie,  16  Great  Windmill  Street,  Picca- 
dilly, was  taken  down  to  make  way  for  the  Lyric  Theatre;  and  its  site  is 
now  occupied  by  the  stage  entrance  to  that  establishment. 

"*  Craven  Cottage,  Fulham,  has  been  destroyed  by  fire.  No  sign  of  it 
now  remains. 

^  The  only  old  houses  standing  on  the  west  side  of  Holies  Street,  in 
1892,  were  numbered  18,  19,  and  20. 

^'  Lord  Byron's  house  in  Piccadilly  was  altered  beyond  recognition  in 
1888. 

22  A  letter  of  Carlyle's  was  dated  from  No.  4,  now  [1892]  No.  32, 
Ampton  Street,  Pentonville,  October  24, 1824.  Previous  to  that  date  he 
lived  for  five  months  at  No.  4  Claremont  Square,  Pentonville. 

^  Peter  Cunningham,  in  a  Foot-note  attaclied  to  Johnson's  '  Lives  of 
the  Poets,'  says  that  Cowley  was  born  in  the  parish  of  St.  Michael-le- 
Querne,  Cheapside. 

2*  De  Foe  was  married  at  St.  Botolph's,  Aldgate,  on  the  1st  of  January, 
1683  (0.  S.)  In  the  license  he  is  described  as  Daniel  Foe,  of  the  Parish 
of  St.  Michael's,  Cornhill,  and  a  merchant.  The  Register  of  St.  Botolph's 
reads,  '  Daniel  Ffoe,  batchellor,  and  Mary  Truffle,  spinster,  married  by 
Mr.  Hollingworth.' 

'Mary,  daughter  of  Daniel  Defoe  and  Mary  his  wife,'  was  buried  in 
the  Church  of  St.  Michael,  Cornhill,  in  1688. 

25  The  '  Sliakspere  Society  Papers '  say  that  Farquhar  was  buried  in 
the  church-yard  of  St.  Marlin-in-the-Fields,  May  23,  1707,  and  that  he  is 
entered  in  the  Church  Register  as  "Falkweie." 

26  III  'Lower  Sussex  Worthies  '  (p.  176),  is  the  statement  that  Fletcher 
was  born  at  Rye,  Sussex,  December  20,  1579. 

27  'The  Builder,'  London,  September  19,  1885,  says  that  Milton 
Street  was  so  called  in  honor  of  a  contractor  of  that  name,  who  re- 
built it. 

2*  Holcroft  died  in  Clipstone  Street,  running  from  Great  Portland 
Street  to  Cleveland  Street. 

29  John  T.  Merriman,  Esq.,  author  of  'Notes  of  Kensington  Square,' 
writes  in  a  private  letter  that  '  the  tombstone  to  Mrs.  Inchbald  with  the 
touching  tribute  to  her  memory  has  never  been  removed  from  its  posi- 
tion in  the  yard  of  St.  Mary's,  Kensington,  and  next  to  the  grave  of 
young  Canning.' 

*"  Keats's  Bench,  and  the  sign  which  designated  it,  have  now  disap- 
peared. 

'^  WilUam  Penn  resided  at  Holland  House  at  the  time  of  the  death 


328  NOTES. 

of  James  II. ;  and,  according  to  Faulkner's  '  History  of  Kensington,'  he 
took  lodgings  in  Kensington  at  the  time  of  the  accession  of  Queen  Anne. 

^  According  to  Mr.  Austin  Dohson,  in  the  Introduction  to  his  'Mat- 
thew Prior,'  I'rior's  uncle  kept  the  Riicnisli  Wine  Inn,  Channel  (Canon) 
Kow  ;  and  Prior  himself,  when  he  first  came  to  London,  lodged  in  Ste- 
phen's Alley,  Westminster. 

"  Shelley  was  educated  at  Syon  House  Academy,  at  Brentford,  a  build- 
ing still  standing,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  Great  Western  Railway 
Station,  in  1892,  when  it  was  known  as  Syon  Park  House. 

*•  A  'Plan  of  London,'  dated  1794  and  preserved  in  the  British  Mu- 
seum, shows  that  Sheridan  during  that  year  occupied  a  large  house,  just 
north  of  the  Opera  House,  in  the  Hay  market,  the  entrance  being  be- 
tween 75  and  76  Haymarket,  on  the  west  side. 

^  lu  the  '  Dyce  Library,'  South  Kensington,  is  a  letter  from  Words- 
worth to  Dyce,  dated  '  12  Bryanston  Street,  7th  April  [1831]  ;  my  birth- 
day—61.' 

^  This  house  is  no  longer  standing. 

^  Professor  Thomas  R.  Lounsbury,  of  Yale  University,  an  accepted 
authority  upon  the  subject, writes  in  a  private  letter:  'The  "Testament 
of  Love"  is  spurious,  Chaucer  having  had  no  hand  in  writing  it.  His  fa- 
ther was  John  Chaucer,  vintner, of  London.  Nobody  but  "Master  Buck- 
ley "  has  ever  seen  any  record  of  the  Inner  Temple,  containing  Chaucer's 
name.  And  nobody  knows  who  "  Master  Buckley  "  was  !  There  is  noth- 
ing to  connect  Chaucer,  in  any  way,  directly  with  the  Savoy  Palace. 
There  is  not  the  slightest  evidence  that  he  ever  spent  a  night  there, 
and  the  belief  that  he  was  married  there  has  no  foundation  whatever. 
The  imprisonment  in  the  Tower  in  which  he  is  supposed  to  have  written 
tlie  "Testament  of  Love,"  which  he  never  wrote,  and  the  later  life  in 
Thames  Street  are  the  fanciful  notion  of  the  last  century  biographers, 
or  of  people  who  have  misunderstood  certain  recently  discovered  facts. 
In  a  deed  bearing  the  date  of  June  19,  1380,  Chaucer  released  all  his 
rights  in  his  father's  house  in  Thames  Street  to  Henry  Herbury.  It  is  a 
natural  inference,  altliough  it  is  far  from  being  actually  known,  that  the 
poet  was  born  in  John  Chaucer's  house  in  Thames  Street.  This  house,  the 
Alilgate  residence,  and  the  Westminster  residence  are  the  only  tliree  in 
London  that  Chaucer  is  now  known  to  have  had  any  connection  with.' 

^  Dr.  Benjamin  Ellis  Martin,  in  a  private  letter  written  in  1892,  says 
that  although  Holland  House  has  been  restored,  repaired,  and  some- 
what enlarged,  no  alterations  have  been  made  in  any  of  the  apartments 
associated  with  Addison. 


NOTES.  329 

^  The  Jerusalem  Tavern  in  St.  John's  Gate  exists  no  longer.  '  The 
Grand  Priory  of  the  Order  of  the  Hospital  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem,  in 
England,' occupying  tlie  premises  in  1892.  Di'.  Johnson's  arm-chair  lias 
disappeared  with  the  tavern.  Cave's  room,  over  the  Arch,  in  whicli  John- 
son worked  and  Garrick  played,  has  been  restored  but  not  destroyed. 

^  Little  College  Street,  Camden  Town,  was  called  College  Place,  \V., 
in  1892,  and  liad  been  entirely  rebuilt. 

■"  Dr.  Martin  has  found  in  the  Register  of  Readers  at  the  British  Mu- 
seum the  name  of  Charles  Dickens,  February  3,  1830,  as  living  at  No.  10 
Norfolk  Street,  Fitzroy  Square.  His  ticket  was  renewed  on  February  2, 
1833,  when  his  residence  is  given  as  No.  8  Bentinck  Street,  Cavendish 
Square.  There  is  no  record  in  any  of  his  biographies  or  in  his  printed 
letters  of  his  having  occupied  either  of  these  houses. 

^  A  writer  in  '  The  British  Quarterly  Review,'  October,  1885,  says 
that  De  Quincey  fainted  on  a  door-step  in  Soho  Square,  when  he  was 
aided  by  '  Ann  of  O.xford  Street;'  and  that  he  took  his  last  leave  of  her 
in  Sherrard  Street  [now  Sherwood  Street],  Golden  Square. 

''•'  W.  Bolt,  Esq.,  of  Queen's  Road,  Richmond,  in  a  private  letter  in 
1886,  wrote,  'I  lived  as  a  boy  in  Serle's  Place,  and  knew  the  inns  and 
courts  round  about  very  well.  It  may,  perhaps,  interest  you  as  corrobo- 
rative evidence  to  know  that  when  passing  the  Duke  of  York  public 
house  in  Serle's  Place,  during  its  demolition  as  a  site  for  the  Law  Courts, 
I  discovered  a  stone  upon  which  were  carved,  in  bas-relief,  the  words, 
"The  Trumpet,"  above  a  rough  image  of  that  musical  instrument.  The 
sign  was  immediately  behind  the  wooden  sign  of  the  Duke  of  York,  and 
it  bore  every  evidence  of  having  been  gilded  at  one  time.  It  was  un. 
questionably  the  sign  of  the  house  before  its  change  of  name.' 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


Abney,  Sir  Thomas,  317. 

Addison,  Josei'Ii,  1-9;  mentioned, 
V,  ix,  X,  175,  202,  204,  243, 
287,  288,  302,  322;  quoted,  OG,  07. 

Agnew,  Thomas,  293. 

Aikin,  Lucy,  quoted,  2,  288. 

AlvENSIDE,  MaKK,  10-11. 

Albert,  Prince  Consort,  306. 

Alcinoiis,  190. 

Andersen,    Hans    Christian,   quoted, 

84. 
Anne,  Queen,  55,  155,  156,  243,  244. 
Arbuthnot,  Dr.  John,  243. 
Archer,  Francis,  204. 
Argyll,  Duke  of,  203. 
Atterbury,  Bishop  Francis,  6. 
Aubrey,  John,  mentioned,  171;  quo- 

ted,^!,  13,  19,  29,  74,  91,  107,  172, 

173,  199,  211,   212,  215,  216,  223, 

225,  249,  295,  310. 

Bacon,  Francis,  11-14;  mentioned, 
202. 

Baillie,  Agnes,  15. 

Baillie,  Dr.  Majtthew,  14. 

Baillie,  Joanna,  14-15. 

Baker,  David.  Erskine,  196. 

Ballantyne,  James,  261. 

Barbauld,  Anna  Letitia,  16  ;  quo- 
ted, 253,  254. 

Barbauld,  Rev.  Rochemont,  16,  256. 

Barber,  Francis,  90,  103. 

Barclay  and  Perkins,  17,  18,  19,  70, 
163,"l74,  260,  208. 

Barham,  If.  II.,  (|uoted,  142 

Barrett,  Klizabeth  (Mrs.  Browning), 
151,  217. 


Barton,  Bernard,  185,  100. 

Batten,  Sir  W.,  236. 

Baxter,  Richard,  10-19. 

Baxter,  Mrs.  Richard,  10,  17,  18. 

Beaconsfield,  Countess  of,  89. 

Beaconseield,  Earl  of  (see  Dis- 
raeli). 

Beattie,  Dr.  W.,  quoted,  37. 

Beauclerc,  Topham,  121,  159. 

Beaumont,  Francis,  19-20;  men- 
tioned, 103,  107,  280. 

Bentham,  Jeremy,  213,  214. 

Bentley,  Dr.  Richard,  71. 

Berthelette,  Thomas,  quoted,  127. 

Bevry,  Adam  de,  46. 

Bickcrstaff,  Isaac,  121. 

Birch,  Thomas,  quoted,  251. 

Blackstone,  Sir  William,  121. 

Blake,  William,  x. 

Blanchard,  Laman,  85. 

Blanc,  Louis,  305. 

Blessington,  Lady,  88,  90,  195,  278. 

Blinde,  Mathilde,  quoted,  98. 

Bloomfield,  Robert,  20-21. 

Boccaccio,  257. 

Bohn,  Henry  G.,  79. 

Bolingbroke,  Viscount,  242,  247. 

Boswell,  Dr.,  164. 

Boswell,  James,  21-22;  mentioned, 
X.  105,  122,  ,107;  quoted,  120, 
123,  1.56,  158,  1.59,  161,  102,  10.3, 
104,  105.  100,  107,  168,  109,  170. 

Boufflers,  Madame  de,  159-160. 

Boj^er,  Jeremy,  50. 

Bracegirdle,  Mrs  ,  63. 

Brawne,  Fanny,  179,  181,  182. 

Bray,  Dr.  Nicliolas,  264. 


332 


LNDEX   OF   I'EUttUJSIS. 


Binybrooke,  Lord,  •2;j4. 

liraylcy,  Edward   W'edlake,  quoted, 

la,  -Im,  31'J. 
Brewster,    Sir    Uavid,    quoted,   227, 

•228. 
lirighaui,  Nieliolas,  48. 
Bri^liaiii,  Kacliel,  48. 
iJroiile,  .Ajuue,  22. 

BitONTE,  Chaulotte,   22-23;  quo- 
ted, 305-306. 
Brooks,  Shirley,  305;  quoted,  306. 
Brougham,  Lord,  20 L 
Brown,  Charles,  180,  181,  182. 
Browning     Elizabeth    Barrett,    151, 

217. 
Browning,  Robert,  305. 
Brydges,  Mr.  Alderman,  254. 
Buchanan,  Robert,  quoted,  39. 
Bucke,  C,  quoted,  10. 
Buck  land.  Dean  William,  174. 
Buller,  Charles,  38. 
Buller,  Mr.  Justice,  5fi 
BuLWER  LvTTON,  23-24 ;  mentioned, 

194. 
BuNYAx,  John,  25-26. 
Burbage,  Richard,  265. 
Burdette,  Robert  J.,  quoted,  231. 
Burke,  Edmund,  27-28 ;  mentioned, 

68,  122   123,  167. 
Burne-Jones,  Edward,  254. 
Burnev,  Dr.  Charles  (Elder),  72,  73, 

158." 
Burney,  Charles  (Younger),  quoted, 

164,"  165. 
Burney,  Fanny  {see  Madame  D'Ar- 

blay). 
Burns,  Robert,  x. 

Busby,  Dr.  Richard,  91.  197,  246,  258. 
Butler,  Sasiuel,  28-29 ;  mentioned, 

X.  321. 
Byron,  Augusta  Ada,  32. 
Byron,  Lad.v,  32. 
Byron,    Lord,    30-35;    mentioned, 

145,  220,  263;  quoted,  257. 
Byron,  Mrs.,  30. 

Camden,  William,  45. 
Camphelt,,   Thomas,   35-37;   men- 
tioned, 32. 


Campbell,  Mrs.  Thomas,  35,  36. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  38-40;  men- 
tioned, viii,  85  ;  (juoted,  147,  158. 

Carter,  Elizarexh,  40-41. 

Car}',  Henry  Eraucis,  192. 

Casaubon,  Isaac,  315. 

Cave,  Edward,  157,  260. 

Centlivre,  Susanna,  41;  men- 
tioned,  X. 

Cervantes,  106. 

Chantrey,  Sir  Francis,  72. 

Chapman,  Dr.  John,  97,  170. 

Charles  L,  174. 

Charles  IL,  66,  96,  207,  214,  301,  322. 

Charles  X.,  of  France,  134. 

Charlton,  Blargaret  (see  Mrs.  Rich- 
ard Baxter). 

Chatterton,  Thomas,  42-45 ;  men- 
tioned, V. 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  45-48;  men- 
tioned, 20,  66,  91,  94,  257,  259,  285, 
286. 

Chaweer,  Richard,  45. 

Chesterfield,  Earl  of,  49-50; 
mentioned,  112,  241. 

Church,  Mrs.  Ross  (Florence  Mar- 
ryat),  quoted,  206. 

Churchill,  Charles,  50-51 ;  men- 
tioned, 66,  70,  72. 

Cibber,  Caius  Gabriel,  7,  54. 

CiBBER,  CoLLEY,  52-55;  mentioned, 
X,  195. 

Cibber,  Theophilus,  quoted,  104,  264. 

Clarke,  Charles  Cowden,  quoted,  153, 
177,  178,  179. 

Clarke,  John,  178. 

Clarke,  Mary  Cowden,  quoted,  153, 
177,  178,  l"79. 

Clive,  Lord,  202. 

Coleridge,  Sajiuel  Taylor,  56- 
60;  mentioned,  148,  184,  186,  187, 
285,  321. 

Collier,  John  Payne,  204. 

Collins,  William,  60-61. 

Colman,  George  (Elder),  61-62; 
mentioned,  51,  70,  167. 

Colman,  George  (Younger),  62-63. 

CoNGREAE,  William,  63-64;  men- 
tioned, 8,  9. 


INDEX  OF  PERSONS. 


333 


Constable,  Archibald,  quoted,  35. 

Cook,  Eliza,  139. 

Cooke,  George  Willis,  quoted,  98,  99. 

Corry,  Montagu  (Lord  Kowton), 
88. 

Coventry,  Baron  Thomas,  18. 

Cowley,  Abraham,  Gi-66;  men- 
tioned, 9-t. 

CowPEK,  William,  66-67;  men- 
tioned, ix,  50,  71. 

Crabbe,  George,  68-69;  men- 
tioned, 28. 

Craik,  Henry,  299. 

Croft,  Sir  Herbert,  42,  43. 

Croker,  John  Wilstn,  quoted,  160. 

Cromwell,  Oliver,  37,  136,  207,  213. 

Crosby,  Sir  John,  269. 

Cross,  .John  Walter,  99. 

Crupen,  Alexander,  69-70. 

Cruikshank,  George,  305. 

Cumberland,  Richard,  70-71; 
mentioned,  66. 

Cunningham,  Allan,  71-72. 

Cunninghnm,  Peter,  quoted,  20.  44, 
52,  92,  101,  105,  160,  17.5,  177,  178, 
197,  244,  246,  263,  277,  283,  288, 
295,  301,  313,  322. 

Dallas,  R.  C,  31. 

Danvers,  Sir  John,  223. 

D'Arblay,  Madame,  72-73. 

Davenant,  Lady,  74. 

Davenant,  Sir  William,  74-75; 
mentioned,  x,   6. 

Davies,  Tom,  x,  21,  100,  161. 

Davis,  John,  quoted,  42. 

Day,  Thomas,  75. 

De  Foe,  Daniel,  76-78;  mentioned, 
256. 

De  Foe,  Daniel,  Jr.,  77. 

De  Foe,  Sophia,  77. 

Delaney,  Mrs.  (Mar3),  73. 

Denham,  Sir  John,  74. 

Dennis,  John,  mentioned,  196; 
quoted,  231. 

De  Quincey,  Thomas,  78-79. 

Dickens,  Charles,  79-86;  men- 
tioned, 217,  305,  306,  320;  quoted, 
305. 


Dickens,  Charles,  Jr.,  vi. 

Dickens,  Mrs.  Charles,  83. 

Disraeli,  Benjamin,  86-89;  men- 
tioned, 89. 

D'IsKAELi,  Isaac,  89-90;  men- 
tioned, 87,  88,  165,  256,  292; 
quoted,  2. 

Dixon,  Hepworth,  12. 

Dobson,  Austin,  quoted,  105. 

Dodsley,  Robert,  11,  28,  251,  312. 

Donue,  Dr.  John,  173. 

Doran,  Dr.  .John,  quoted,  53,  103, 
231,  265,  283. 

Downe,  John,  quoted,  230. 

Drayton,  Michael,  90-91;  men- 
tioned, ix,  174. 

Drogheda,  Countess  of,  322,  323. 

Drummond,  Williiim,  quoted,  286. 

Dryden,  John,  91-96;  mentioned, 
vii,  X,  48,  175,  197,  230,  243; 
quoted,  196,  210. 

Dryden,  Lady  Elizabeth,  92. 

Dumergues,  Charles,  261,  262. 

D'Urfey,  Tom,  96-97. 

Dyce,  Alexander,  85. 

Dyer,  George,  191. 

Dyke,  Bessj'  (Mrs.  Thomas  Moore), 
220,  221.  * 

Dyson,  Jeremiah,  10. 

Edward  VL,  46,  57,  108. 
Edwardes,  Edward,  quoted,  251. 
Eliot,  George,   97-99;  mentioned, 

170. 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  12,  108,  249,  250. 
Elmsley  (the  Publisher),  114. 
Elwood,  Mrs.  A.  K.,  quoted,  73,150. 
Erasmus,  224,  225. 
Essex,  Devereux,  Earl  of,  7,  286. 
Evans,  Mary  Ann  (George  Eliot), 

97-99;  mentioned,  170. 
Evelyn,  John,  100-102;  mentioned, 

X,  52;  quoted,  66,  235. 
Evelyn,  William  J.,  101. 

Faraday,  Michael,  102-103. 
Farquhar,  George,  103-104. 
Faulkner,  Thomas,  quoted,  106,  224, 
290,  308,  310. 


334 


INDEX   UF    PERSONS. 


Ferguson,  Dr.  Robert,  26^. 

Fielding,  IIenky,  104-lOG;  men- 
tioned, V,  X. 

Fields,  James  T.,  quoted,  85,  86, 
149,  303. 

Fitzgerald,  Percy,  quoted,  183. 

Fitziierbert,  William,  159. 

Flaxinan,  John,  '257. 

Flktciiek,  John,  107-108;  men- 
tioned, 19,  20,  103,  280. 

Foe,  James,  76. 

Foote,  Samuel,  163. 

Ford,  Edward,  quoted,  89. 

Forman,  H.  Buxton,  (juotcd,  181. 

Forster,  John,  mentioned,  79,  83,  84; 
quoted,  77,  79,  85,  119,  123. 

Fountainc,  Sir  Andrew,  297. 

Fowler,  Thomas,  172. 

Fox,  Charles  James,  274. 

Fox,  John,  108-109. 

Fox,  William  Johnson,  85. 

Francis,  Lady,  109. 

Francis,  Sik  Philip,  109-110. 

Fkanklin,  Benjamin,  110-112. 

Froude,  James  Anthony,  quoted,  38, 
39,  40. 

Fuller,  Thomas,  quoted,  171,  176, 
222. 

Garrick,  David,  x,  21,  86,  113,  123. 

125,  156,  157,  167,  222. 
Garrick,  Mrs.  David,  222. 
Garrick,  Peter,  170. 
Garth,  Dr.  Samuel,  7,  8,  94,  259. 
Gaskell,    Mrs.   Elizabeth    Cleghoni, 

quoted,  22-23,  305-306. 
Gay,   John,    112-113;    mentioned, 

243,  249. 
George  III.,  156, 

George  Eliot  (see  Eliot,  George). 
Gibbon,  Edward,  113-115. 
Gilchrist,  Anne,  quoted,  188. 
Giilillan,  Rev.  George,  quoted,  50. 
Gilman,  James,  58, 59., 
Gilpin,  John,  67. 
Glen,  William,  158. 
Glover,  Richard,  115. 
Godwin,   William,   116-118;  quo- 
,ted,  272. 


Godwin,  Mrs.  William  (Mary  Woll- 
stonccraft),  116,  118,  2,56,  272. 

Godwin,  Mrs.  William  (second), 
116,  117. 

Godwin,  Marv  Wollstonecraft  (Mrs. 
Shelley),  271,  272. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver.  118-126;  men- 
tioned, v,  21,  91,  105,  162,  167, 
169. 

Goodwin,  Dr.  Thomas,  214. 

Gosse,  Edmund,  quoted,  128. 

GowER,  Jt>HN,  126-127  ;  mentioned, 
46. 

Grant,  Baron,  150. 

Gray,  Thomas,  127-129;  men- 
tioned, 71. 

Greatorex,  Rev.  Dan.,  54. 

Greville,  Charles  C.  F.,  quoted,  201, 
274. 

Grimshaw,  Rev.  T.  S.,  quoted,  67. 

Grote,  George,  129-130. 

Gwynne,  Nell,  208. 

Hallam,  Henry,  131. 

Halliwell-Phillipps,  172. 

Hall,  S.  C,  quoted,  57,  88,  117,  148. 

Hall,  Susannah,  265. 

Handel,  242,  243. 

Hare,  Augustus  J.  C.,  quoted,  169. 

Harness,  Rev.  William,  185. 

Harris,  Joseph,  95. 

Harte,  Walter,  2. 

Hastings,  Warren,  51,  66,  70,  202. 

Haweis,  Rev.  H.  R.,  242. 

Hawkins,  Sir  John,  mentioned,  165; 
quoted,  166,  169,  313. 

Hawkins,  Letitia  Matilda,  quoted, 
224. 

Haydon,  Benjamin  Robert,  189. 

Ha'zlitt,  John,  131. 

Hazlitt,  William,  131-135;  men- 
tioned, 191,  213. 

Hazlitt,  Mrs.  William  (Sarah  Stod- 
dard), 131. 

Henderson,  Jolm,  86. 

Henry  IV.,  47. 

Henry  VIII.,  108,  224,  256. 

Herbert,  George,  136. 

Herrick,  Robert,  136-137. 


INDEX  OF   PERSONS. 


335 


Hoare,  Henry,  9. 

Hoare,  Lemuel,  68. 

Hobhouse,  Thomas,  33. 

Ilodder,  George,  quoted,  59, 154,  304, 

306. 
Hogarth,  William,  79,  189,  253. 
Holbein  (Younger),  224. 
HoLCROFT,  Thomas,  137. 
Holland,  Lady,  quoted,  93,  279. 
Holland,  Lord,  275. 
Holland,  Sir  Henrj',  quoted,  204. 
Holley,  0.  L.,  111. 
Honie'r,  172,  243. 
Hood,  Thomas,  137-139;  mentioned, 

79. 
Hood,  Thomas,  Jr.,  quoted,  138,  139. 
Hook,  Theodore,  140-143. 
Hoole,  John,  167- 
Horace,  94,  96,  97. 
Home,  John,  309. 
Hotten,  J.  C,  quoted,  43. 
Houghton,  Lord,  139,  181. 
Howitt,    William,    mentioned,    181, 

182;  quoted,   15,  43,  125,  180,  211, 

213,  256,  289,  200. 
Hume,  David,  143-144. 
Humphrey,  Ozias,  quoted,  160. 
Hunt,  Leigh,  144-149;  mentioned, 

57,  271 ;  quoted,  4,  5,  95,  150,  158, 

168,  169,  179,  180,  184,  199,  298. 
Hunt,  Mrs.  Leigh,  147. 
Hunter,  Dr.  John,  14. 

Ixchbald,  l\rRS.,  149-151. 
Ingleby,  C.  M.,  quoted,  215,  216,  297. 
Ireland,  William,  266. 
Irving,  Edward,  38. 
Irving,    Washington,    quoted,    119, 
121,  122,  124. 

James   I.,  8,  13,  108,  172,  249,  250. 

James  II.,  234. 

Jameson,  Anna,  151-152. 

Jeaffreson,  Dr.  .John  B.,  87. 

Jeaffries,  Lord,  94. 

Jerrold.  Blanchard,  quoted,  117,  148, 
1V2,  153,  154,  271. 

Jerrold,  Douglas,   152-155  ;  men- 
tioned, 8.5,  117,  .306. 
31 


Jesse,  John  H.,  quoted,  12,  28,  32, 
241,  261,  276,  307. 

Johnson,  Samuel,  155-171;  men- 
tioned, V,  ix,  X,  3,  21,  49,  50,  GO, 
90,  98,  121,  122,  123,  125,  204, 
222,  247,  253,  256,  200,  274;  quo- 
ted, 4,  6,  64,  94,  105,  120,  122,  231, 
240,  259,  260,  261,  288,  283,  292. 

Johnson,  Mrs.  (mother  of  Samuel), 
155. 

Johnson,  Mrs.  (wife  of  Samuel),  158. 

Jones,  Inigo,  12,  51. 

Jones,  Owen,  98. 

JoNsoN,  Ben,  171-177;  mentioned, 
6,  11,  20,  74,  130,  270,  286. 

Joiison,  Mrs.  Margaret,  172,  173. 

Joyce,  Dr.  Thomas,  203. 

Kat,  Christopher,  8. 

Kearsley,  George,  164. 

Keats,  John,  177-182;  mentioned, 

27. 
Keats,  Thomas,  179,  181. 
Kingsley,  Charles,  x. 
Kingsley,  Henry,  x. 
Kingston,  Duke"  of,  218. 
Knatchbull,  Sir  Edward,  34. 
Kneller,  Sir  Godfrey,  9. 
Knight,    Charles,    quoted,   163,  22-T, 

266. 
Knipp,  Mrs.,  238. 

Lamp.,  Charles,  182-193 ;  men- 
tioned, V,  ix,  X,  57,  60,  79, 
131,  1.32,  133,  138,  144,  140,  178, 
273,  284,  285,  321 ;  quoted,  56. 

Lamb,  Elizabeth,  183,  186,  273. 

Lamb,  John,  183,  186,  273. 

Lamb,  John,  Jr.,  184. 

Lamb,  Mary,  79,  131,  132,  144,  185, 
180,  187,  190,  193. 

Landon,  Letitia  E.,  194. 

Landor,  Walter  Savage,  194- 
195;  mentioned,  217. 

Landseer,  Sir  Edwin.  248. 

Langbaine.  Gerrard,  282. 

Langton,  Bennet,  123,  164. 

Lee,  Nathaniel,  195-190. 

Leech,  John,  -302,  305. 


336 


INDEX   OF   PERSONS. 


Lemon,  Mark.  305. 

Lenox,  Mrs.  Cliarlotte,  169. 

L'Kstraiif^c,  Sir  lioyer,  208. 

Lever,  Charles,  x. 

Levctt,  Uobert,  162. 

Lewes,  George  Henry,  98,  99. 

Lewis,   ^Irs.   (Couiitcss  of   Beacons- 

liel(l),  8',). 
Lewis,  Saniuf],  (iiioted,  54,  249,  250, 

257. 
Linley,  Jliss  (Mrs.  Sheridan),  273. 
Lintot,  Bernard,  159. 
Locke,  John,  197-198;   mentioned, 

227. 
Lockhart,  John  Gibson,    quoted,  33, 

73,  262,  263. 
Loekhart.  Mrs.  J.  G.,  262. 
Loftie,  Kev.  W.  J.,  quoted,  62,  66, 

67,  225,  268,  292,  293. 
Lovelace,  Countess  of  (Augusta  Ada 

Byron),  32. 
Lovelace,  Richard,  198-199. 
Lover,  Samuel,  199-200. 
Lowell,   James   Eussell,    mentioned, 

235 ;  quoted,  252. 
Lucas,  John,  217. 
Lysons,  Samuel,  quoted,  100. 
Lytton,  Loud  (see  P.ulwer  Lytton). 

Macaui-ay,    Thojias    Babinoton, 

200-204;  quoted,  6,22,  257. 
Macaulay,  Zachary,  201. 
Macdonald,  John,  quoted,  292. 
Mackintosh,  Sir  James,  quoted.   224 
Maclise,  Daniel,  85. 
Maitland,  William,  quoted,  153. 
Malone,  Edmund,  quoted,  5,  92,  172, 

173,  196,  266. 
Manning,  Thomas,  188,  189. 
Manningham,  John,  quoted,  269. 
Marlowe,  Christopher,  204-205. 
Marrvat,    Florence    (.--ee    Mrs.   Ross 

Church). 
Marryat,  Frederick,  205-207. 
Marryat,  Joseph,  206. 
Martin,   Dr.   B.  E.,  quoted,  58,    59, 

80,  84,  85,  87,  88. 
Martin,  Sir  Tiieodore,  305. 
Marvell,  Asdrew,  207-208. 


Mary  L,  108. 
Maseres,  Huron,  188. 
AL\.sHix(;i.;i{,  I'liiLii',  209. 
Masson,  David,  quoted,  212,  215. 
Mathews,  Charles,  34. 
Mathews,  Charles  James,  305. 
Matthews,  Captain  TJKimas,  273. 
Mcteyard,  Eliza,  quoted,   14. 
Milbanke,  Miss  (Lady  Byron),  32. 
Millais,  John  Everett,  305. 
Miller,  Joe,  mentioned,  143;  (pioted, 

291. 
Milner-Gibson,  Tliomas,  85,  86. 
Milner,  Rev.  Thomas,  quoted,  317. 
Milnes,  Richard  Monckton  {see  Lord 

Houghton). 
Milton,  John,  210-210;  mentioned, 

4,132,  133,  146,  153,  2(11,  207. 
Milton,  Mrs.  John    (Maiv    Powell), 

212. 
Milton,  John  (father  of   poet),  210. 
Mitford,  Dr.,  216. 

MiTFORD,  Mary  Russell,  216-217. 
Montagu,  Basil,  248. 
Montagu,  Mrs.  Basil,  248. 
Montague,  Charles,  94. 
Montague,  Mrs.   (Elizabeth),  312. 
Montague,  Mary  Wortley,  218- 

219. 
Montgomery,  Henry  R.,  quoted,  287. 
Moore,  Anne  Barbara,  221. 
Moore,  Peter,  274. 

Moore,    Thomas,    220-221 ;     men- 
tioned,   32,    33,    35,    36,    93,    262; 

quoted,  4,  30,  31,  32,  34,  145,  275. 
Moore,  Mrs.  Thomas,  220,  221. 
iMoRE,  Hannah,  222. 
Moke,  Sir  Thomas,  222-225. 
More,  Thomas,  quoted,  225. 
Murphy,   Arthur,   226-227;   meii- 
.  tioned,  55;  quoted,  159. 
Murray,  John,  33,  34,  68,  262,  285. 

Napoleon  I.,  134. 
Nelson,  John,  quoted,  69. 
Nelson,  Lord,  125. 
Nettleton,  Robert,  208. 
Neve,  Philip,  216. 
Newland,  Abraham,  221. 


INDEX   OF   PERSONS. 


337 


Newton,  Sik  Isaac,  227-229  ;  men- 
tioned, 73. 
Nichols,  John  Goiii;-h,  277. 
Nicolas,  Sir  Ilavris,  '-M'-i. 
Noorthhouck,  John,  (luuted,  78. 

Oldfieia,  Mrs.,  64,  W3. 

Oldvs,  William,  (luotcd,  196,  282, 
.315,  .316. 

Otway,  Thomas,  229-230;  men- 
tioned, 93. 

Pavkes,  John  James,  quoted,  10,  109, 
110,  157. 

Parkes,  Joseph,  quoted,  109,  110. 

Paniell,  Thomas,  213. 

Parr,  Ur.  Samuel,  ijuoted,  165. 

Patmore,P.  G.,  quoted,  132,  133, 135. 

Pembroke,  "William  Herbert,  Karl 
of,  269. 

Pembroke,  Countess  of,  269,  276. 

Pexn,  William,  231-232. 

Pennant,  Thomas,  viii. 

Pepvs,  Samuel,  2-32-2.39;  men- 
tioned, ix,  X  ;  quoted,  74,  95, 
100,  111. 

Pepys,  Mrs.  Samuel,  234,  235. 

Percy,  Bishop  Thomas,  (juoted,  119, 
121. 

Peter  the  Great,  100,  234. 

Philips,  Robert,  (pioted,  25,  26. 

PhiUipps-Halliwell,  172. 

Pink's  History  of  Clerkenwell, 
quoted,  19,  26"^,  296,  318. 

Piozzi,  ^Irs.  (see  Mrs.  Thrale). 

Pitt,  William,  109. 

Pope,  Alexandek,  240-244;  men- 
tioned, X,  2,  19,  41,  95,  112,  219, 
245,  247,  257,  289. 

Pope,  Alexander  (father  of  the 
poet),  240,  241. 

PoKsox,  Richard,  244-245. 

Porter,  Mrs.  Lucy,  158. 

Procter,  Adelaide,  248. 

Procteu,  B.  W.,  248;  mentioned, 
217;  quoted,  1.33,  146,  257. 

Quarles,  Francis.  91. 

Quincv,  Richanl,  270. 


Radcliffc.  Dr.  John,  322. 
Raleigh,  Carew,  250,  252. 
Raleigh,  Lady,  2,50,  232. 
Ralei(;ii,  SiK  Walter,  249-252. 
Ralph,  James,  110. 
Redding,  C_vrus,  quoted,  36,  321. 
Reid,  Stuart  J.,  quoted,  280. 
Reynolds,   Sir  Joshua,  21,   121,  122, 

i23,  153,  160,  161,  167,  168,  222. 
Richard  HI.,  2ti9. 
Richardson,      Sa  jiuel,     252-255 ; 

nientioned,  16,  118;  quoted,  215. 
Richardson,  JL's.  Samuel,  253,  255. 
Riley,  Henry  Thomas,  46. 
Ritchie,  Mrs.  R.  (Anne  Thackeray), 

303. 
Robinson,  Henry  (_'.,  mentioned,  321; 

quoted,  15,  56,  57,  193. 
Robinson,  Jacob,  27. 
Robinson,  William,  quoted,  314. 
Rochester,  Earl  of,  95. 
Rogers,  Dr.  Joseph,  125. 
RotiERS,    Sajiuel,    255-258;    meu" 

tioned.  15,  22,  32,  -36,  73,  93,  165, 

221,  262,  284,  .321;  quoted,  S3,  ,57, 

58,  69,  .30f),  319. 
Roper,  JMargaret,  225. 
Roscoe,  Will  am,  quoted,  243. 
Roubilliac,  S.  F.,  2.57. 
Rousseau,  J.  J,  143,  144.  162. 
RowE,  Nicholas,  258-259. 
Rowton,        Lord       (see       Montagu 

Corry). 
Russeli,  Dr.  William  H.,  305. 

St.  John,  Heniy  (Bnlingbroke),  242. 

Salter,  Mr.  (Don  Saltero),  2I»1. 

Savage,  Richard,  2.59-261;  men- 
tioned, 157.  288. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  261-263;  men- 
tioned, 73:  quoted,  92,  93,  94,  175. 

Severn,  Joseph,  181. 

Shadwell,  Thomas,  264 ;  men- 
tioned, 92;  quoted,  107. 

Shakspcre,  Edmond,  267,  269. 

Shakspere,  264-271;  mentioned, 
20,  71,  125,  146,  153,  154,  162,  172, 
175,  176,  215,  216,  257.  286,  301, 
.306,  315,  316:  quoted,  223. 


338 


INDEX   OF   PERSONS. 


SiiELLKY,  Pkucy  Byssiik,  271-272. 

Slielk'V,  Mrs.,  271. 

Sliflli-y,  Sir  Timothy,  272. 

SiiEN.sToNK,  William,  272. 

Siicppard,  Jack,  143. 

Siii;i;ii)AN,     liiciiAHO     Bkinslky, 

273-275;  mentioned,  80,  1G7. 
Sheridan,  Mrs.  (.Miss  i.inl.'v),  273. 

SlllKLKV,  .I.VMES,  27.0-27(i. 

Shirley,  Mrs.  James,  270. 

Siddons,  Mrs.,  283. 

Sidney,  Sih  I'hilip,  270-277. 

Sioane,  Sir  Hans,  224. 

Smith,  Cliarles  Hoacli,  (j^uoted,  9,  45, 
240,  254. 

Smith,  George,  23. 

Smith,  IIokace,  277-278. 

Smith,  James,  277-278. 

Smith,  James,  quoted,  23. 

Smith,  Robert  ('Bobus'),  170,  256, 
280. 

Smith,  Sydney,  278-280;  men- 
tioned, 93. 

Smithwick,  John,  91. 

Smollett,  Tobias,  280-282. 

Somerset,  Protector,  311. 

SOUTHEKNE,  TlIOMAS,  282-284. 

Soi'THEY,  KouERT,  284-285;  nien- 
tione'd,  00,  132,  187;  quoted,  318, 
319. 

Sparks,  .Tared,  111. 

Spei;ht,  T.,  quoted,  40. 

Spence,  Joseph,  2,  0,  8,  03,  05,  231, 
240. 

Spenser,  Edmund,  285-286;  men- 
tioned, 91,  146. 

Spenser,  Gabriel,  173. 

S])iller.  Jolm,  54. 

Sprat,  Dean  Thomas,  65. 

Stanfield,  Clarkson,  85,  217. 

Stanhope.  Sir  AVilliam.  241. 

Stanley,  Dean  Arthur  Penrhyn,  men- 
tioned. 315;  (|U()ted.  47,  8(1,  91,  112, 
174,  203,  204,  229.  280. 

Staunton,  Howard,  quoted,  253. 

Steele,  Sir  PtiCHARD,  287-291; 
mentioned,  v,  x,  2,  4,  6,  8,  9,  97, 
2GI. 

Steele,  Lady,  288,  289,  290. 


Steele,  Mrs.  Pochard,  288. 

Sterne,  Laukexce,  292-294. 

Stevens,  (ieorge,  210. 

Stoddard,  Sarah  (Mrs.  Ila/litt),  131. 

Stow,  John,  mentioned,  viii;  (juoted, 
48,  104,  127,  173,  195,  227,  235, 
207,  209. 

Strype,  John,  menti<med,  viii;  quo- 
ted, 18,  104,  170,  170,  237. 

Stuart,  Lady  Louisa,  218. 

Stukely,  Dr.  William,  228. 

Suckling,  Sir  John,  294-295. 

Suckling,  Piev.  Alfred,  295. 

Sweden Roiif;,  Emanuel,  290-297. 

Swift,  Jonathan,  297-300;  men- 
tioned, 3,  241,  243;  (juoted,  7,  247. 

Symington,  A.  J.,  quoted,  221. 

Talfourd,  Thomas  Noon,  mentioned, 

188, 191;  quoted,  18.3,185,  188,190, 

191. 
Taylor.    John,  quoted,    53,   55,   110, 

245.' 
Taylor,  John  (Water  Poet),  301- 

302. 
Taylor,  Rev.  John,  105. 
Taylor,   Tom,  mentioned,   -302,   305; 

quoted,  228. 
Terence,  97. 

Thackeray,  Anne  (Mrs.  Ritchie),  303. 
Thackeray,  William  ]\[AKErEACE, 

302-306;    mentioned,    ix,    3,    154, 

203;  quoted,  2,  105,  287. 
Theodore,  King  of  Corsica,  134. 
Thirlwall,  Bishop.  130. 
Thompson,  Edward,  quoted,  208. 
Thompson,  Mrs.  A.  F.,  quoted,  72. 
Thomson,  James,  307-.308. 
Thorne,   James,   quoted.   14,  30.  05, 

100,  129,  148,  180,  181,   182,   200, 

219.  221,  241,  311,  312. 
Tiirale,  Ilenrv,  103,  168. 
Thrale,  Mrs."  Henry,  1-50,  103;  quo- 
ted. -307. 
Throgmorton,   Elizabeth   (Lady  Rar 

leigh),  250,  252. 
Thurlow,  Lord  Ciianrellor,  201. 
Thynne,  Charles.  251. 
Tickell,  Thomas,  5. 


INDEX   OF    PERSONS. 


H39 


Ticknor,  George,  quoted,  36. 
Timbs,  John,   (luoted,    24,   142,  143, 

240. 
Todd,  H.  J.,  quoted,  212,  214. 
Toiisoii,  Jacob,  8,  iJ. 
TooKE,  John  Hokne,  309-310. 
Traill,  H.  D.,  quoted,  293. 
Trevelyan,  G.  O.,  quoted,  201,  202, 

203.' 
Trevelyan,  Lady,  203. 
Trollope,  Anthony,  302,  305. 
Turner,  J.  U.  w",  245. 

Yanbrugh,  Sir  John,  8. 
Yand\ke,  295. 
Vaughan,  Sir  John,  13. 
Venables,  George,  302. 
Vernon  and  Hood,  137. 
Verrio,  Antonio,  144. 
Vertue,  George,  295. 
Victoria,  Queen,  39,  234,  306. 
Voltaire,  quoted,  03,  04. 
Von  Ilomrigh,  Esther,  298,  299. 

Walcott,  M.  E.  C,  quoted,  27,  47. 

Walford,  Edward,  quoted,  49,  228, 
230,  2.59. 

Waller,  Edmund,  310-311;  men- 
tioned, X. 

Walpole,  Horace,  311-313;  men- 
tioned, 5.  53,  128,  222,  241;  quoted, 
219,  226. 

Walpole,  Sir  Robert,  311. 

Walter,  James,  quoted,  265. 

Walton,  Izaak,  313-315;  men- 
tioned, 64;  quoted,  136,  173. 

Ward,  Edward,  315,  316. 

Ward,  E.  M.,  R.  A.,  49. 

Warwick,  Counters  of,  3,  4,  6,  322. 

Warwick,  Earl  of,  3,  4,  5. 


Watts,  Isaac,  310-317. 

Wclwood,  Dr.,  qiK)tcd,  259. 

Wesley,  John,  318-319. 

Wlieatley,  B.  W.,  (juoted,  114. 

White,  Gilbert,  quoted,  61. 

White,  Will  am,  quoted,  297. 

WhiteHeld,  Rev.  George,  318. 

Wliitlington,  Richard,  145. 

Wilde,  John,  253. 

Wilkes,  John,  51. 

Wilkes,  Robert,  104. 

Wilkie,  David,  153. 

W^illiam  HI.,  204. 

William  IV.,  125,  270. 

William  of  Wickham,  120. 

Williams,  Anna,  158,  102,  163. 

Williams,  Dr.  Charles  J.  B.,  24, 

Wilson,  Richard,  321. 

Wilson,  Sir  Robert,  174. 

Winter,  William,  quoted,  59,  252. 

Witherborne,  Dr.,  13. 

Wither,  John,  320. 

WoLCOT,  John,  320-321;  men- 
tioned, X. 

Wollstonecraft,  Mary  (Mrs.  Godwin), 
116,  118,  256,  272" 

Wood,  Anthony,  mentioned,  107; 
quoted,  29,  198,  199,  209,  212,  275, 
283,  313,  314. 

Wordsworth,  Dorothy,  190. 

Wordsworth,  William,  321-322; 
mentioned,  15,  58,  185,  217. 

Wren,  Sir  Christopher,  45,  92,  136, 
199,  210,  265,  324. 

W^YCHERLEY,     WiLLIAM,      822-323 ; 

mentioned,  x. 

Yates,  Edmund,  quoted,  306. 
Young,  Edward,    324;   mentioned, 
ix,  5,  03. 


INDEX    OF   PLACES. 


Abbotsford,  263. 

Abchurch  Lane,  102,  290,  300. 

Aberdeen,  60. 

Abingdon    Buildings,    Westminster, 

71. 
Abingdon  Street,  Westminster,  71. 
Abney  Park  Cemetery,  317. 
Acton,  17,  108. 
Adam  and  Eve  Tavern,  Kensington 

Road,  275. 
Adam  Street,  Adelphi,  139. 
Addlestone,  Surrey,  75. 
Adelaide  Road,  289. 
Adelphi,  The,  87,  138,  1-39. 
Adelphi  Club,  Maiden  Lane,  Covent 

Garden,  245. 
Adelphi  Terrace,  Adelphi,  139,  222, 

249. 
African  Tavern,  St.  Michael's  Alley, 

Cornhill,  245. 
Airlie   Lodge,    Campden    Hill,   202, 

203. 
Albany,  The,  Piccadilly,  23,  32,  202. 
Albemarle  Street,  Piccadillv,  32,  33, 

34,  35,  53,  68,  102,  115,  263,  284. 
Albert  Hall,  Kensington,  195. 
Albion   Street,    Oxford    Street,  293, 

303. 
Albion    Tavern,    Aldersgate    Street, 

1.30. 
Albion  Tavern,   Russell  Street,   Co- 
vent  Garden,  154-155. 
Albyn  House,  Parson's  Green,  255. 
Aldersgate   Street,  64,  75,  108,  130, 

170,  211,  212,  21.3,  .301,  322. 
Aldgate,  4G-47. 


Alexandra  Palace,  221. 

Alfred  Club,  Albemarle  Street,  34-35. 

All  Hallows   Church,  Bread  Street, 

210. 
All    Hallows   Lane,    Upper   Thames 

Street,  239. 
All  Saints  Church,  Fulham,  142. 
Almack's,  305. 

Alma  Terrace,  Fulham  Road,  Ham- 
mersmith, 206. 
Almonry    Office,     Middle    Scotland 

Yard,  37. 
Alpha  Road,  St.  John's  Wood,  193. 
Amen  Corner,  Paternoster  Row,  279. 
Amen  Court,  Paternoster  Row,  279. 
Amesbury,  112. 
Angel  Court,  High  Street,  Borough, 

80. 
Apothecaries'  Hall,  265. 
Apsley  House,  201,  273. 
Argyll  Lodge,  Campden  Hill,  203. 
Argyll  Road,  Kensington  Road,  275. 
Argyll  Rooms,  295. 
Arlington  Street,  Piccadilly,  218,  311. 
Arthur  Street,  Fulham  Ro"ad,  221. 
Artillery  Ground,  Bunhill  Row,  318. 
Artillery  Place,  Bunhill  Row,  215. 
Artillery  Walk,   Bunhill  Row,  214- 

215. 
Arundel     Hotel,      Norfolk      Street, 

Strand,    232. 
Arundel  House,   Highgate  Hill,  1.3- 

14. 
Arundel  House,  Strand,  235. 
Arundel  Streel,  Strand,  117,  155,  170, 

235,  258. 


342 


INDEX   OF    PLACES. 


Athenicum  Club,  24,  103,  142-143, 

'204,  '221, '2o8.  278,  300. 
Augustus  Sijiiaiv,  Uu{,^ciit's  Park,  153. 
Augustus  Struct,  Kegeut's  Park,  153. 
Austin  Friars,  '277. 
Axe  Yard  (Fluydor  Street),  75,  233. 

Back  Lank,  Twickeiiliam,  105. 
Back  lioad,  Islington,  250. 
liaker  Street,   Euliekl,  '205. 
Baker  Street,  Port  man  Square,  23. 
IJail's  Pond,  Newington  Green,  256. 
IJankend,  IJanksido,  '2G0. 
Bankside,  ]9,  20,  107,  118,  174,  170, 

209,  206,  270. 
Barbican,     Aldersgate    Street,    212, 

213,  301. 
Barn-Elms,  9,  65. 
Barnes,  200. 
Barnes  Common,  106. 
Barnsbur}'  Road,  Penton  Street,  126. 
Bartholomew   Close,   Little    Britain, 

110,  111,  214. 
Bartholomew  Lane,  Cit}',  130. 
Bartlett's  Buildings,  Fetter  Lane,  183. 
Bartlett's  Passage,  Fetter  Lane,  183. 
Basinghall  Street,  235,  '237. 
Bateman's  Buildings,  Soho  Square, 

01. 
Battersea,  05,  242. 
Battersea  Bridge,  224. 
Bay  Cottage,  Edmonton,  192. 
Bavham  Street,  Camden  Town,  79, 

81. 
Bayswater,  299. 
Beaconsfield,  Bucks,  28,  310. 
Bear  and  Harrow,  Butcher  Row,  190. 
Bear-at-the-Bridge-Foot,  295,  323. 
Bear  Gardens,  174,  200,  207,  208. 
Bear  Inn,  Southwark,  238. 
Beauchamp  Tower,  Tower  of  London, 

251. 
Beaufort  Buildings,  .Strand.  lOG. 
Beaufort  House,  Chelsea,  224. 
Beaufort  Row,  Chelsea,  224. 
Beaufort  Street,  Chelsea,  224. 
Beaumont  Street,  Marylebone,  195, 

248. 
Bcckenham,  Kent,  129. 


Bedfordbury,  274. 

Bedford  Coffee  House,  Coveiit  Gar- 
.  den,  51,  01,  100,  '220,  '242,  274,  312. 
Bedford   Gardens  (Bedford  Sijuare), 

1'28. 
Bedford  Head  Tavern,  Maiden  Lane, 

Co  vent  (iarden,  '207. 
Bedford    Hotel,    Covent   Garden,   5, 

303. 
Bedford        House         (Soutliani]jton 

House),  Bloomsbury  Square,  52. 
Bedford   Place,   Russell  Siiuare,   71, 

150,  217. 
Bedford  Square,  140. 
Bedford  Street,  Covent  Garden,  49, 

245,  259. 
Bedford  Tavern,  Maiden  Lane,  Co- 
vent Garden,  207. 
Beefsteak  Club,  51,  62,  03,  226. 
Belgrave  Place,  Belgrave  Square, 130. 
Belgrave  Square,  130. 
Bell  Inn,  Aldersgate,  301. 
Bell  Inn,  Cartel  Lane,  270,  271. 
Bell  Inn,  Fore  Street,  Edmonton,  i.\, 

192. 
Bell  Inn,  King  Street.  Westminster, 

236,  244,  300. 
Bennct's  Hill,  City,  105. 
Bennett   Street,  St.  James's   Street, 

31,  115. 
Bentinck  Street,  Manchester  Square, 

114. 
Berkeley  House,  Piccadilly,  310. 
Berkeley   Square,   53,   71,"  219,   311, 

312. 
Berkeley  Street,  Piccadilly,  240,  241, 

310. 
Berners  Street,   Oxford  Street,  140- 

141,  199. 
Bethlehem  Hospital,  175-17G. 
Bethnal  Green,  69. 
Be  vis  Marks,  80. 
Birchin  Lane,  Comhill,  44,  128,  200, 

300. 
Bird-in-Hand-Court,  Cheapside,  179. 
Bishop   of   London's  Meadows,  Ful- 

ham,  24,  143. 
Bishopsgafe    Street,   185,   195,   268, 

276,  295. 


INDEX   OF    PLACES. 


343 


Blackfriars,  112. 
Jilackfriars  Bridge,  216,  208. 
Blackfriars  Koail,  141. 
Blackfi-iars  Theatre,  265,  269. 
Black  Jack  Tavern,  143. 
Blackmail's  Street,  Southwark,  17. 
Black-Spread-Eagle-Court,        Bread 

Street,  Cheapside,  210. 
Blandford  Squai-e,  1)8. 
Blandford   Street,    Portinau   Square, 

102. 
Bloody  Tower,    Tower    of    London, 

2.51. 
Bloomfield  Street,  Finsbur}',  196. 
Bloomsburv   Square,   10,  17,  52,  87, 

88,  90,  128,  131,  288. 
Bloomsburv  Street,  140. 
Blue    Bells    Tavern,    Lincoln's    Lin 

Fields,  238. 
Blue   Coat   School   (see    Christ-Hos- 
pital). 
Blue   Hart  Court,    Coleman    Street, 

20. 
Blue  Stocking  Club,  312. 
Boar's    Head    Tavern,     Eastcheap, 

125,  270. 
Bodleian  Library,  Oxford,  9,  234. 
Bolingbroke  House,  Battersea,  242. 
Bolt  Court,  Fleet  Street,  90,  158,  163, 

164,  165,  222,  256. 
Bolton  House,  Hampstead,  14. 
Bolton  Street,  Piccadilly,  34,  73. 
Bond  Street,  114,  307. 
Boodle's  Club  House,  115. 
Borough  High  Street,  10,  17,  48,  80, 

10.3,  .320. 
Borough  iNLarket,  Southwark,  70. 
Borough  Road,  Southwark,  17. 
Boswell  Court,  Carey  Street,  195. 
Boulogne,  France,  37. 
Bournemouth,  118. 
Bouverie  Street,  Fleet  Street,  133. 
Bow  Church,  210. 
Bow  Lane,  Cheapside,  45. 
Bow  Street,  Covent  Garden,   x,  105- 

106,  152,  155,  170,  189,  190,    2-37, 

24.3,299,-307,  310. 
Bradenham     House,      Buckingham- 
shire, 90. 


Brandenburg  House,  Hammersmith, 

206. 
Bread   Street,    Cheapside,    170,  210, 

270,  271. 
Breakneck  Stairs,  119,  120. 
Brentford,  177,  309. 
Brew  House,  Axe  Yard,  75. 
Brick   Court,  Middle    Temple  Lane, 

105,  121,  123. 
Bridge  Street,  AVestminster,  57. 
Bridgewater     House,      St.     James's 

Street,  240. 
British  Coffee  House,  170,  282. 
British  Listitution,  Pall  Mall,  144. 
British  Museum,  25,  53,  8D,  128,  140, 

1.52,  178,  201,  270,  271. 
Broad  Court,  Bow  Street,  Long  Acre, 

118,  152,  155. 
Broad  Sanctuary,  Westminster,  227. 
Bromley,  318. 

Brompton,  Kensington,  194. 
Brompton,  near  Huntingdon,  232. 
Brompton  Road,  153,  226. 
Brompton  Square,  63. 
Brooke   Street,  Holborn,  42,  43,  44, 

260. 
Brooks's  Club,  St.  James's  Street,  28, 

110,  115,  144,  221,  274,  312. 
Brothers'  Club,  247,  300. 
Brunswick  Square,  248. 
Bruton  Street,  Berkeley  Square,  53, 

151. 
Brvdges   Street,    Drurj'    Lane,    113, 

i89,  237. 
Buckingham  Court,  Strand,  41,  246. 
Buckingham  Gate,  115. 
Buckingham  .  House     (Buckingham 

Palace),  156,  298. 
Buckingham  House,  Chelsea,  224. 
Buckingham  Palace,  95, 102,  156,  298. 
Buckingham  Palace  Road,  37,  71. 
Buckingham  Street,  Strand,  12,  104, 

234,  282. 
Bucklersbuiy,  223.  224. 
Bull   and    Bush    Tavern,    Hammer- 
smith. 8. 
Bullingham   House,    Campden    Hill, 

228. 
Bull  Lin  Court,  Strand,  238. 


;;4-i- 


INDKX   OF   PLACES. 


Bull  Inn,  Shoreditch,  227. 
lUill  Inn,  Tower  Hill,  2.J1. 
Bull's  Head  Tavern,  Clare  Market, 

200. 
Bull's  Head  Tavern,  Spring  Gardens, 

52,  53,  213. 
Bunliill   Kields,  25,   26,  78,  214,  215, 

;il7,  .■518. 
Bunliill  Ki)W,  215. 
Burford  Bridge,  180. 
Burlington  Arcade,  140. 
Burlington  Gardens,  10,  30,  32,  112, 

273,  279. 
Burlington  Street,  Strand,  113. 
Burnliam,  130. 
Burnhani  Beeches,  128. 
Bury  Street,  St.  James's  Street,  30, 

68,  2-20,  2G3,  271,  283,  297,  298. 
Bury  Street,  St.  Mary  Axe,  317. 
Butcher  Row,  170,  196,  272. 
Button's   Coffee  House,    x,    6,    149, 

175,  260,  291,  300. 

Cadogan  Place,  Sloane  Street,  2».I. 
Cambridge,  19,  65,  70,  91,  136,  171, 

175,  Ub,  205,  211,  227,  244,  245, 

293. 
Camden  Passage,  Islington,  69,  70. 
Camden  Town,  321. 
Campden  Grove,  Kensington,  228. 
Campden  Ilill,  Kensington,  202,  228, 

299. 
Cannon  Row,  Westminster,  197. 
Cannon    Street,    92,   115,    125,    239, 

268,  271. 
Cannon  Street  Station,  239. 
Cannons,  Edgeware,  243. 
Canon  Alley,  St.  Paul's  Churchyard, 

109,  167. 
Canonbury  Fields,  Islington,  87. 
Canoiibury  House,  Islington,  122. 
Canonbury  Place,  Islington,  122. 
Canonl)ury  Square,  Islington,  122. 
Canonbury    Tower,     Islington,    87, 

122. 
Canon  Row,  Westminster,  2-39. 
Canterbury,  48,  225. 
Capel  Court,  Bartholomew  Lane,  130. 
Carey  House  (Tavern),  Strand,  238. 


Care}-  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 

74,"  198. 
Carlisle  Street,  Soho,  61. 
Carlton  House,  18,  258. 
Carmarthen,  Wales,  290. 
Carter  Lane,  Doctors'  Commons,  265, 

270. 
Castle  Street,  Cavendish  Square,  lo7. 
Castle  Street,  Holborn,  74. 
Castle  Tavern,  Henrietta  Street,  Co- 
vent  Garden,  273. 
Castle  Tavern,  Islington,  54. 
Castle  Tavern,  Savoy,  2-i8. 
Castle  Yard,  Holborn,  74. 
Cat  and  Fiddle  Inn,  8,  218. 
Catherine  Street,  Strand,  156,  237. 
Caven<lish  Square,  30,  36,  109,  151, 

219. 
Cavendish  Street,  Cavendish  Square, 

15L 
Chalfont,  Bucks,  232. 
Chalton  Street,  Euston  Road,  116. 
Chancery  Lane,  64, 133, 135, 172, 173, 

188,  191,  238,  239,  274,   313,  316. ' 
Chandos  Street,  Covent  Garden,  142, 

239,  274. 
Change  Alley,  Cornhill,  300. 
Channel  Row,  Westminster,  197. 
Chantry  House,  72. 
Chapel  Place,  Poultry,  137. 
Chapel  Royal,  St.  .James'.s,  141. 
Chapel  Street,  Mayfair,  40,  41,  271. 
Chapel  Street,  Pentonville,   187-188. 
Chapel  Street,  Portland  Place,  320. 
Chapel  Street,  Somers  Town,  116. 
Chapter    Coffee   House,    Paternoster 

Row,  22,  44,  124. 
Chapter    House    Court,    Paternoster 

Row,  44. 
Charing  Cross,  41,  53,  171,  176,  213, 

233,  2.36,  2.38,   239,   244,    246.    260, 

2G8,  307. 
Charing  Cross  Station,  12,  81. 
Charles  Street,  Berkeley  Square,  23- 

24,  280. 
Charles  Street,  Berners  Street,  199. 
Charles   Street,  Manchester   Square, 

102. 
Charles  Street,  Portland  Square,  102. 


I^'DEX   OF    PLACES. 


345 


Charles  Street,  St.  James's  Square, 

20,  28,  68,  104. 
Charles  Street,  Westminster,  75,  247. 
Charlotte  Street,  Bedford  Scjuare,  140. 
Cliarter  House,  108,  222,  27.5. 
Charter  House  Lane,  19. 
Charter  House  .School,  1,  2,  75,  129, 

198,  287,  302,  318. 
Charter   House  Square,   v,  1,  19,  75. 
Charter  House  Street,   19. 
Charter  House  Yard,  18. 
Chase  Side,  Enfield,  191. 
Chatelain's  Coffee  House,  238. 
Cheapside,     77,     13(3,    175-176,    179, 

211,  236,  239,  270,  322. 
Chelsea,  viii,  1,  '3,  38,  63,  99,   112, 

146,  153,  197,  223,  224,  264,  281- 

282,  288.  291.  298,  311. 
Chelsea  Church,  63,  225,    204,    290, 

298. 
Chelsea  Hospital,  311. 
Chelsea  Workhouse,   Fulham   Road, 

197. 
Chenies     Street,    Tottenham    Court 

Eoad,  151. 
Chertsev,  65-66. 

Cheshire  Cheese  Tavern,  120,  170. 
Cheshunt,  Herts,  317. 
Chesterfield  House,  49,  50. 
Cheyne  Row,  Chelsea,  99. 
CheVne  Walk,  Chelsea,  112,  282. 
Chigwell,  232. 

Chigwell  Grammar  School,  232. 
Child's  Bank,  Fleet  Street,  6,  175. 
Child's  Coffee  House,  7. 
Chiswell    Street,    Finsbury    Square, 

108.  215. 
Chiswick,241. 
Chi.swick  Church,  241. 
Chiswick  Lane,  241. 
Christ  Church,  Enlield.  191. 
Christ  Church,  Newgate  Street,  18. 
Christ  Church,  O.xford,  232. 
Christ-Hospital,  56-57,  60,  144,  183. 

184,  2.53. 
Churches:  All  Hallows,  Bread  Street, 

210;  All  Saints,  Fulham,  142;  Bow, 

210;   Chapel    Royal.    St.    James's, 

141 ;  Chelsea,  63,  225,  264,  290,  298  ; 


Chiswick,  241;  Christ,  Enfield, 
191;  Christ,  Newgate  Street,  18; 
Christ,  O.xford,  232;  Danish,  Well- 
close  Square,  54;  Edmonton,  192- 
193 ;  Grosvenor  Chapel,  South 
Audley  Street,  41,  50,  219;  Hack- 
ney, 77;  Hampstead,  15;  Holy 
Trinity,  Little  Queen  Street,  Hol- 
born,  187;  Kensington  (acc  St. 
Mary,  Kensington);  Lady  Chapel, 
Westminster  Abbey,  47;  Maryle- 
bone,  140;  Orange  Chapel,  St. 
Jlartin's  Street,  Leicester  Squai-e, 
227;  St.  Andrew's,  Holburn,  87, 
131-1.32,  2.59;  St.  Andrews-by-the- 
Wardrobe,  265;  St.  Ann's,  Carter 
Lane,  265;  St.  Ann's,  Soho,  134; 
St.  Bartholomew  the  Great,  214; 
St.  Benedict's  Chapel,  Westminster 
Abbey,  20,  48;  St.  Benet's,  Paul's 
Wharf,  105;  St.  Bennet  Fink,  16, 
240;  St.  Botolph's,  Aldgate,  47; 
St.  Bride's,  Fleet  Street,  92,  199, 
211,  212,  255;  St.  Clement  Danes, 
92,  117,  165-166,  170,  195,  196, 
231 ;  St.  Dunstan's,  Canterbury, 
225;  St  Dunstan's,  Fleet  Street, 
6,  17,  91,  198,  257;  St.  Faith's, 
211;  St.  George's,  Hanover  Square, 
4,  99,  293;  St.  George's,  South- 
wark,  80,  81,  320;  St.  Giles's, 
Cripplegate,  76,  77,  108,  215,  216; 
St.  Giles's-in-the-Fiekls,  2u8,  270; 
St.  Helen's,  Bishopsgate,  268 ; 
St.  James's,  Clerkenwell,  314;  St. 
James's,  Garlickhithe,  45 ;  St. 
John's  Chapel,  Hampstead,  182; 
St.  John  the  Evangelist,  Smitit 
Square,  50-51;  St.  Katherine  Cree, 
47;  St.  Lawrence's,  Brentford,  309; 
St.  Luke's,  Chelsea,  63,  225,  264, 
290,  298;  St.  Margaret's.  West- 
minster, 35,  66-67,  233,  252,  310; 
St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  11,  41, 
92,  104,  171,  172,  17.3,  220. 
245,  278,  301,  .302;  St.  Mary-AI- 
dermarv,  45;  St.  Mary-at-Hill, 
324;  St.  lyLiry  Axe,  87,' 317;  St. 
Maryleboiie,    'l2,    30;    St.    Mary- 


346 


LNDEX   Ul'    I'LAt'KS. 


le-Bow,  210;  St.  Mary-le-Savoy, 
;i-2();  St.  Miiry-lo-Stiaiul,  ]]«;  St. 
Mat\v-Magilaleii,  Milk  Streot,  17; 
St.  jMaiy-Mau'dak'ii,  Uicliiiioiul. 
308;  Si."  Mary-Ovc'iy,  107,  108, 
120,  127,  2011,"  200,  2'(i7,  209;  St. 
Mary's  Cliapcl,  Westiniiister  Ab- 
bey, 47;  St.  Mary's,  Ealing,  309; 
St.  Mary's,  Kuiisingtoii,  02,  03, 
151,  203;"  St.  Mary's,"  I'ulnoy,  113; 
St.  Mary's,  WyiKliiain  I'lace,  Bry- 
anston  Square,  194;  St.  Mary- 
Woolcluircli,  275;  St.  Micliael's, 
Coriihill,  128;  St.  Jlichael's,  High- 
gate,  58;  St.  Micliael's,  Old  Ve- 
rulain,  13;  St.  Mildred's,  Bread 
Street,  271;  St.  Nicholas's,  Dept- 
ford,  204-205;  St.  Olive's,  Hart 
Street,  233,  234,  235,  238 ;  St.  Paa- 
cras-iu-tlie-l-'ield.s,  110,  118,  271, 
-273,  310;  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  39, 
109,  276-277,  279;  St.  Paul's,  Co- 
vent  Garden,  x,  29,  41,  218,  283, 
284,  302,  321,  323  ;  St.  Paul's,  Dock 
Street,  54;  St.  Paul's,  Hammer- 
smith, 220;  St.  Peter's,  Southwark, 
268;  St.  Saviour's,  Southwark, 
107,  108,  126,  127,  209,  200,  267, 
209;  St.  Sepulchre's,  Holborn,  26, 
116.  117;  St.  Swithin's,  London 
Stone,  92;  St.  Vedast's,  Foster 
Lane,  1-36;  Savoy  Chapel,  46,  320: 
Stepney,  250;  Stoke  Newington, 
10 ;  Stoke  Pogis,  129 ;  Swedish, 
Eatcliffe  Highway,  296;  Temple, 
123;  Tower  Chapel,  225;  Twicken- 
ham, 242;  Westminster  Abbey,  5, 
20,  24,  37,  39,  47,  51,  53,  66,  74,  91, 
94,  101,  112,  130,  164-165,  172, 
173,  174,  203-204,  214,  227,  229, 
259,  264,  274,  285,  286,  288,  315; 
Zoar  Chapel,  Southwark,  25. 

Church  Entry,  Carter  Lane,  265. 

Church  Lane,  Chelsea,  298. 

Church  Road,  Battersea,  242. 

Church  Row,  Islington,  250. 

Church  Street,  Chelsea,  264,  298. 

Church  Street.  Edmonton,  178,  192. 

Church  Street,  Fuliiam  Road,  221. 


Church  Street,  Greenwich,  157. 

Church  Street,  Kensington,  228. 

Church  Street,  Stoke  Newington,  16, 
77. 

Cider  Cellar,  Maiden   Lane,   Co  vent 
Garden,  245. 

Circus  Road,  St.  John's  Wood,  154. 

City   Road,   viii,   20,   126,    140,   317, 
318,  319. 

City  Road  Chapel,  319. 

Clapham,  138,  200,  201,  234,  253. 

Clapham  Common,  201. 

Clare  Market,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 
54,  5.5,  190,  290. 

Clarence  Gate,  Regent's  Park,  262. 

Clarendon  Hotel,  New  Bond  Street, 
167. 

Clarendon  Square,  Somers  Towti,  116. 

Clarges  Street,  Piccadilly,  40,  202. 

Clement's  Inn.  222. 

Clerkenwell,  157,  172,  314,  315,  318. 

Clerkenwell  Green,  315. 

Cleveland  Court,  St.  James's  Street, 
240. 

Cleveland  Row,  St.  James's  Street, 
141. 

Clifford  Street,  New  Bond  Street,  32. 

Clifton's  Tavern,  Butcher  Row,  170. 

Clink  Street,  Southwark,  2(i6. 

Clock  House,-  Hampstcad,  15. 

Cloth  Fair,  City,  214. 

Clothworkers'  Hall,  Mincing  Lane, 
235. 

Club,  The,  X,  21,  22,  28,  115,  123, 
131,  167,  204,  274,  280. 

Clubs:  Adelphi,  Maiden  Lane,  Co- 
vent  Garden,  245;  Alfred,  Albe- 
marle Street,  34-35 ;  Athenanmi, 
24,  103,  142,  143,  204,  221,  258,  278, 
306;  Beefsteak,  51,  02,  63,  220; 
Blue  Stocking,  312;  Boodle's,  115; 
Brooks's,  28,  110,  115,  144,  221, 
274,  312;  Brothers',  247,  300;  Club, 
The,  X,  21,  22,  28,  115,  123,  131, 
107,  204,  274,  280;  Cocoa  Tree, 
8,  35,  115;  Conservative,  114,  204; 
Crockford's,  142;  Devonshire,  142; 
Dilettanti  Society,  62;  East  Indir 
Service,  110;  Eccentric  274;  Gar 


INDEX  OF   PLACES. 


34Y 


rick,  200,  278,  306,  307;  Gratis, 
155;  Hook  and  ¥.ye,  154;  Ivy 
Lane,  1G6,  169;  King  of  Clubs, 
170,  258,  288;  King's  Head,  166, 
167;  Kit  Kat,  8,  64,  218,  289,  290; 
Literary  (see  Tiie  Club) ;  Mulberry, 
118;  Museum,  155;  October,  243, 
244,  300;  Our  Club,  154;  Reform, 
154,  306;  Rota,  208,  238;  Saville, 
274;  Scriblereus,  113,  243,  244,  300; 
Spiller's  Head,  54;  The  Club  (see 
Club,  The);  Union,  278;  United 
Service,  207;  Watier's,  34;  White's, 
54;  Whittington,  153,  170,  258. 

Clunn's  Tavern,  Covent  Garden,  154. 

Cockpit  Alley,  Drury  Lane,  75. 

Cockpit  Place,  Drury  Lane,  75. 

Cockpit  Theatre,  75. 

Cockspur  Street,  170,  282. 

Cock   Tavern,    Bow   Street,    Covent 
Garden,  322,  323. 

Cock  Tavern,  Fleet  Street,  170,  238. 

Cock  Tavern,   Suffolk  Street,   Hav- 
market,  238. 

Cock  Tavern,  Totliill  Street,  284. 

Cocoa  Tree  Club,  8,  35,  115. 

Cocoa  Tree  Tavern,  7-8,  247,  259. 

Coffee  Houses  (see  Taverns). 

Coldbatii  Fields,  296. 

Coldbath  Square,  296. 

Colebrook    Cottage,    Islington,    190, 
284. 

Colebrook   Row,    Islington,   54,   88, 
190,  191. 

Colebrook  Terrace,  Islington,  190. 

College  of  Surgeons,   Lincoln's  Inn 
Field?,  74. 

Oillege  Street,  Camden  Town,  82. 

College  Street,  Westminster,  70, 114, 
179. 

Combe-Florey,  280. 

Compton  Road,  Islington,  122. 

Compton  Street,  Clerkenwell,  75. 

Compton  Street,  Soho,  123,  167. 

Conduit,  Clieapsido,  77. 

Conduit   Street,    Regent   Street,   21, 
81,  152. 

Coney  Court,  Gray's  Inn,  12, 

Connaught  Square.  194. 


Conservative  Club,  114,  204. 
Consolidated     Bank,     Threadneedle 

Street,  222. 
Copt  Hall,  Twickenham,  105. 
Cornhill,  77,  127-128,  200,  239,  245, 

300. 
Cousin  Lane,  Upper  Thames  Street, 

2.39. 
Covent  Garden,  v,  51,  95,  128,  154, 

155,  190,  219,  226,  237,  2o8,  239, 

242,  273,  283,  321. 
Covent  Garden  Theatre,  51,  62,  226, 

322. 
Coventry    Street,    Haymarket,    242, 

295. 
Cowley  House,  Chertsey,  65. 
Cowper's  Court,  Birchin  Lane,  45. 
Cox's  Hotel,  Jermyn  Street,  30. 
Cragg's  Court,  Charing  Cross,  307. 
Cranbourn  Street,  Leicester  Square, 

61. 
Crane  Court,  Fleet  Street,  229. 
Craven  Cottage,  Fulham,  24. 
Craven  Street,  Strand,  10,  111,  278. 
Crockford's  Club  House,  142. 
Cromwell  House,  Higligate  Hill,  207. 
Cromwell  Lane,  Brompton.  146. 
Cromwell  Lodge,  Parson's  Green,  255. 
Cromwell  Road,  South  Kensington, 

112. 
Crooked  Billet  Tavern,  Wimbledon, 

•309. 
Crosby  Hall,  Bishopsgate  Street,  223, 

268.  260.  276. 
Crosby  Place,  223.  268,  269,  276. 
Cross  Court,  Bow  Street,  Covent  Gar- 
den, 118,  155. 
Cross   Kevs    Inn,    St.   John    Street, 

Clerkenwell,  260. 
Crown  and  Anchor  Tavern,  Arundel 

Street,  Strand,  155,  170,  258,  280. 
Crown  and  Horse-Shoes,  Enfield,  191. 
Crown  Court,  Chancery  Lane,  313. 
Crown  Office  Row,  Temple,  182,  183, 

303. 
Crown     Tavern,    Hercules'     Pillars 

Alley,  237. 
Crown  Tavern,  King  Street,  Cheap- 
side,  260. 


348 


INDEX   OF   PLACES. 


Crown  Tavern,  Kiiij;  Street,  West- 
minster, '244. 

Crown  Tavern,  Vinegar  Yard,  274. 

Crutched  Friars,  Mark  Lane,  2'di, 
235. 

Cursitor  Street,  173,  274. 

Curtain  Court,  Siioreditcii,  172. 

Curtain  Theatre  (Green  Curtain), 
Siiorediteh,  172,  173,  204. 

Curzon  Street,  .Mayfair,  8J,  280. 

Cut-tlirout  Lane,  Sloive  Newington, 
77. 

Czar  Street,  Evelyn  Street,  Deptford, 
101. 

Dalstox,  184. 

Danish   Church,    Wellelose    Square, 

54. 
Dartmouth  Street,  Westminster,  283- 

284. 
Dawley  Court,  Harrington,  Jliddle- 

sex,'242. 
Deaeon  Street,  Walwortli  Road,  284. 
Deadman's    Place,    Soulthwarl\,    70, 

266.  ' 

Dean  Street,  Borough,  IT^S,  170. 
Dean  Street,  Soho,  61,  78,  124,  125, 

134. 
Dean's  Yard,  Westminster,  27,  114. 
De  Foe    Street,    Stoke   Newington, 

77. 
Delahay  Street,  Westminster,  246. 
Denman  Street,  Soiitiiwark,  10. 
Deptford,  100,  101.  204-205. 
Deptford  Dockyard,  205. 
Deptford  Green,  205. 
Derby  Street,  Westminster,  81. 
Deverenx  Court,  Strnnd.  7,  10,  124, 

168,  229,  247,  285.  2i)l. 

Devil  Tavern,  Fleet  Street,  6,  7,  124, 

169,  175,  238.  290,  300. 
Devonshire  Club,  142. 
Devonshire   House,    Piccadilly,  240, 

310. 
Devonshire  Terrace,  Regent's  Park, 

83. 
Dick's  Coffee  House,  Fleet  Street,  8, 

67.  290. 
Dilettanti  society,  62. 


Dock  Street,  Royal  Mint  Street,  54. 
Dol|)iiin     Tavern,     Seething      Lane, 

230. 
Don    Saltero's,    Chelsea,    112,    282, 

291. 
Dorant's  Hotel,  Jermyn  Street,  30. 
Dorset  Buildings,  Salisburv  Snuare, 

229. 
Dorset  Court,  Salisbury  Scjuare,  197- 

198. 
Dorset   Court,    Cannon    Row,  West- 
minster, 197. 
Dorset  Garden  Theatre,  229. 
Dorset  Street,  Baker  Street,  23. 
Dorset  Street,  Salisbury  Square,  229. 
Douglity         Street,       Meckienljurgli 

Square,  82,  83,  278-279. 
Dover  Street,  Piccadilly,  101,  271. 
Dove's   Tavern,  Upper   Mall,  Ham- 
mersmith, 227,  308. 
Downing    Street,    21,    71,    75,    280, 

311. 
Downshire    Hill,    TIampstead,    181, 

182. 
Down  Street,  Piccadilly.  133. 
Drapers'  Garden,  130,  200. 
Drapers'  Hall,  200. 
Drummond's  Bank.  246. 
Drury  Lane,  -75,  152.  189,  274. 
Drury   Lane   Theatre,    52,  103,    113, 

239. 
Dryden  Press,  viii,  92. 
Duke  of  York's  Tavern,  Shire  Lane, 8. 
Duke's      Head      Tavern,      Parson's 

Green,  255. 
Didie's  Place,  Bury  Street,  St.  :Mary 

Axe,  317. 
Duke  Street,  City,  47,  214. 
Duke   Street,   Lincoln's    Inn    Fields, 

110,  111,  196. 
Duke    Street,    St.    .James's    Street, 

28,  37,  205,  220,  263. 
Duke  Street,  Strand,  12. 
Duke  Street,  Westminster,  246,  247. 
Duke's      Theatre,      Lincoln's      Inn 

Fields,  74,  75,  195. 
Dulwich,  130. 
Dulwicli  College,  130. 
Durham  House,  249. 


INDEX  OF   PLACES. 


349 


Ealing,  106,  200,  309. 
Earl's  Court  Road,  151). 
Earl's    Terrace,    Kensington    Road, 

150. 
East  Barnet,  194. 
Eastcheap,  125,  270,  324. 
East  Heath  Road,  Hanii)stead,  9. 
East  India  House,  185,  18U. 
East  India  Service  Club,  110. 
Eaton  Street,  Pinilico,  37. 
Eccentric  Club,  274. 
Eccleston  Street,  Pinilico,  72,  130. 
Edgeware  Road,  viii,  122,  146. 
Edinburgh,  287. 

Edith  Villas,  Hammersmith,  254. 
Edmonton,  144,  178,  192,  193. 
Edmonton  Church,  192,  193. 
Edwardes   Square,    Kensington,    58, 

148. 
Edward  Street,  Soho,  275. 
Eldon  Chnmbers,  7,  229. 
Elia  Cottage,  Colebrook  Row,  Isling- 
ton, 191. 
Elm   Tree   Road,  St.  John's   Wood, 

138. 
Emerson  Street,  Southwark,  266. 
Enfield,  89,  178,  191,  192,  19-3,  205. 
Essex    Court,  Middle   Temple,    100, 

244. 
Essex  Court,  Strand,  7 
Essex  Hall,  Highani  Hill,  Waltham- 

stow,  88-89. 
Essex  Head  Tavern,  168. 
Essex  House,  Essex  Street,  Strand, 

197,  285. 
Essex  Road,  Islington,  250. 
Essex   Street,   Strand,  28,  168,  197, 

227,  272,  285,  291. 
Eton,  309. 
Eton  College,  128. 
Eustcn  Road,  viii,  146. 
Euston  Square,  321. 
Evelyn  Street,  Deptford,  101. 
Eversham  Buildings,  Somers  Town, 

116. 
Exeter  Change,  112,  113. 
Exeter  House,  Essex  Street,  Strand, 

107,  238.  285. 
Exeter  Street,  Strand,  106,  1.56. 


Falcon  Dock,  Bankside,  176,  268, 

270. 
Falcon  Inn,  Bankside,  25,  170,  268, 

270. 
Falcon  Wharf,  Bankside,  176,  270. 
Farrar's  Buildings,  Inner  Temple,  21. 
Farringdon  Market,  44. 
Farringdon  Street,  -301,  323. 
Feathers  Tavern,  187. 
Featherstone     Buildings,     Holborn, 

273. 
Fenchurch  Street,  235,  236,  239. 
Fetter   Lane,    17,   92,    93,    183,    230, 

2.38. 
Finch  Lane,  Cornhill,  16. 
Finchley,  248. 
Fiuchley  Road,  138. 
Finsburj'  Circus,  78,  177,  178,  196. 
Finsbury  Pavement,  78,  196. 
Fischer's     Hotel    (Stevens's),     New 

Bond  Street,  31. 
Fish  Street,  City,  118. 
Fish  Street  Hill,  239. 
Fleece  Tavern,  Covent  Garden,  237. 
Fleet  Lane,  323. 
Fleet  Market,  119. 
Fleet  Prison,  232,  323, 
Fleet  River,  301. 
Fleet  Street,  t,  ix,  6,  8,  17,  27.  46, 

64,  67,  91,  92,  118,  119,  120,   124, 

164,  165,   168,  109,  170,  175,   183, 

197,  199,  211,  2.36,  237,  2y8,  253, 

255,  275,  276,  290,  300,  313,  314. 
Fleur-de-lys  Court,  Fetter  Lane,  93. 
Fluvder    Street,     Westminster,     75, 

223. 
Foley  Place,  Regent  Street,  37. 
Fordhook,  106. 
Fore  Street,  Cripplegate,  108. 
Fore  Street,  Edmonton,  182. 
Fortis  Green,  130. 
Foster  Lane,  Cheapside,  136. 
Foundling  Hospital,  279,  303. 
Foundry,  Moorlields,  318. 
Fountain  Court,  Middle  Temple,  121. 
Fountain  Court,  Strand,  170,  290. 
Founranie  Tavern,  Strand,  170,  290, 

300. 
Fox  Courl,  IIolb(;nL  259,  260. 


350 


INDEX   OF    PLACES. 


Francis  Street,  Gower  Street,  79. 
Freomaii's  Court,  Conihill,  7ti. 
Friihiv  Street,  Clieapsidi;,  170.  270. 
Frith  Street,  Solio,  ISS-IU,  Ut),  217. 
Froifiial,  Ilampstead,  157. 
Fuliiam,  1,  2,  3,  10,  13,  23,  24,  131, 

141,  lit4,  254,  255. 
Fulliam  Road,  131,  153,  197,  206,  221, 

2!)8. 
Fuhvijoil's   Rents,   Ilolborn,  8,   315- 

31(5. 
Funiivars  Inn,  74,  82,  223. 

Gad's  Hill,  84,  80. 

Garden  Court,  Middle  Temple,  121. 

Garden  House  Tower,  251. 

Garlickhithe,  45. 

Garraway's  Coffee  House,  300. 

Garrick  Club,  200,  278,  300-307. 

Garrick  Street,  Covent  Garden,  29, 

90,  278,  307. 
Gate  House,  Ilighf^ate,  59. 
Gate  House,    Westminster,  27,   198. 

230,  251,  261. 
Gate   Street,    Lincoln's    Inn   Fields, 

187. 
General  Post  Office,  97. 
George  Court,  Strand,  12. 
George's  Row,  Hyde  Park,  149. 
George  Street,  Hanover  Square,  219. 
George   Street,    Manchester   Square, 

102. 
George  Street,  Portland  Square,  220. 
George  Tavern,  Church  Street,  Ken- 
sington, 228. 
George  Tavern,  Pall  Mall,  300. 
George  Tavern,  Strand,  220,  227,  272. 
Gerard  Street,   Soho,  x,  28,  93,  94, 

167,  222. 
Germain  Street  {see  Jermyn  Street). 
Gilpin  (irovc,  Edmonton,  192. 
Giltspur  Street,  144. 
Girdlers'  Hall,  Basinghall  Street,  316. 
Globe  Alley,  Bankside,  206. 
Globe  Tavern,  Bankside,  200. 
Globe  Tavern,  Fleet  Street,  124,  300. 
Globe    Theatre,    Bankside,    19,    J74, 

200,  207,  208,  2(;9. 
Gloucester  Place,  Enfield,  191. 


Gloucester  Place,  Marvlebone  Road, 

140. 
Gloucester  Row,  Shoreditch,  172. 
Gloucester  Street,  Shoreditch,  172. 
Goat  Tavern,  Charing  Cross,  238. 
Golden  Eagle  Tavern,  New  Street, 

238. 
Golden    Fleece   Tavern,    Edmonton, 

192.  , 

Golden  Hart  Tavern,  Greenwich,  157. 
Golden  Lion  Tavern,  Charing  Cross, 

238. 
Golder's  Hill,  North  End,  Fulham, 

10. 
Goldsmith  House,  Peckliam,  119. 
Gordon's    Hotel,    Albemarle    Street, 

32. 
Gore  House,  Kensington,  195,  220. 
Gothic  House,  Wimbledon  Common, 

207. 
Gou£,'h  Square,  Fleet  Street,  8.'),  141, 

1.58. 
Gower  Place,  Euston  Square,  117. 
Gower  Street.  Bedford  Square,  79,  80, 

151. 
Grace  Cliurch  Street,  City,  125. 
Grafton  Street,  New  Bond  Street,  32, 

167. 
Grammar  School,  Highgate,  59,  60. 
Granby  vStreet,  Hampstead  Road,  82. 
Grand  Junction  Canal,  242. 
Grange,  North  End,  Hammersmith, 

254. 
Gratis  Club,  155. 
Gravel  Lane,  Southwark,  25. 
Gravel  Pits,  Kensington,  299. 
Gray's  Inn,  12,  28, 121,  159,  202,  226, 

275,  276,  284,  315,  316. 
Gray's  Inn  Gardens,  88. 
Gray's  Inn  Lane,  275,  281. 
Gray's  Inn  Road,  88,  260. 
Gray's  Inn  Square,  12,  13.  ' 

tircat  Bath  Street,  Coldbath  Square, 

296. 
Great  Bell  Alley,  Coleman  Street,  20. 
Great  Bell  Yard,  Coleman  Street,  2G. 
Great  Cha|iel  Street,  Soho,  61. 
Great  (!hevne  Row,  Chelsea,  viii,  38, 

147. 


INDEX   OF   PLACES. 


351 


Great  College  Street,  Westminster, 

70,  71,  179. 
Great  Coram  Street,  303. 
Great  George    Street,    Westminster, 

34,  202.  274. 
Great  Newport  Street,    Long  Acre, 

309. 
Great  Ormond  Street,  201. 
Great  Peter  Street,  Westminster,  137. 
Great  Portland  Street,  Oxford  Street, 

21,  320. 
Great  Queen   Street,   Lincoln's   Inn 

Fields,  61,  111,  217,  273. 
Great    Russell    Street,    Bloomsbury 

Square,  131,  140,  271. 
Great  Sanctuary,  Westminster,  239. 
Great  Scotland'Yard,  307. 
Great    Smith    Street,    Westminster, 

179. 
Great  Tower  Hill,  231. 
Great  Tower  Street,  254. 
Great  Turnstile,  Ilolborn,  213,  273. 
Great  Wild  Street,  Drur\'  Lane,  75, 

111. 
Great  Winchester  Street,  City,  18. 
Great   Windmill    Street,   Piccadilly, 

14,  295. 
Grecian  Chambers,  Devereux  Court, 

Strand,  7. 
Grecian     Coffee    House,     Devereux 

Court,  Strand,  7,  10,  124,  168,  229, 

291. 
Greek    Street,    Soho,    78,    123,    152, 

167. 
Green  Arbor  Court,  Old    Bailey,  119- 

120. 
Green  Curtain  Theatre  (see  Curtain 

Theatre). 
Green  Street,  Grosvenor  Square,  280. 
Greenwich,  157. 
Gresham   College,    Gresham   Street, 

235. 
Gresham  College,  Old  Broad  Street, 

235. 
Gresham  House,  Old  Broad  Street, 

235. 
Gresham  Street,  235,  236. 
Grey    Friars    Monastery,    Newgate 

Street,  57. 
32 


Grocers'  Hall,  277. 

Grocers'    Hall   Court,   Poultry,   137, 

277. 
Grosvenor    Chapel,     South    Audley 

Street,  41,  50,  219. 
Grosvenor  Place,  Pimlico,  37. 
Grosvenor  Square,  24. 
Grove  End  Koad,  St.  John's  Wood, 

248. 
Grove,  Highgate,  58-59. 
Grove  Terrace,  Hammersmith,  254. 
Grub  Street,  St.  Giles's,  78,  108. 
Guildford  Street,  Chertsey,  65. 
Guildhall,  265. 

Gunpowder  Alley,  Shoe  Lane,  199. 
Guy's  Hospital,  81. 

Hackney,  77,  86. 

Hackney  Church,  77. 

Half     Moon     Pas.^age,     Aldersgate 

Street,  64,  176,  323. 
Half  Moon  Street,  Piccadilly,  21.  73, 

133. 
Half  Moon  Tavern,  Aldersgate  Street, 

64,  176,  323. 
Hall  Court,  Jliddle  Temple,  100. 
Hamilton  Place,  Hvde  Park  Corner, 

261. 
Hammersmitli.  8,  148-149,  206.  226 

227,  254,  308. 
Hammersmith  Bridge,  227,  308. 
Hammersmith   lload,    58,    194,   211, 

254. 
Hammersmith  Terrace,  226. 
Hai.ipstead,  15,  16,  112,  128,  157, 

179,  ISO,  242,  271. 
Harapstcad  Church,  15. 
Hampstead  Heath,  9,  68,  148,  179, 

180,  242,  271. 
Hampstead  Hill,  12. 
Hampstead  Lane,  Highgate,  59. 
Hampstead  Road.  82. 
Hampton  Court,  289. 
Hampton  Court  Green,  102-103. 
Hand  Court,  Holborn,  187. 
Hand-in-Hand  Tavern,    Wimbledon, 

309. 
Hanover  Court,  Long  Acre,  302. 
Hanover  Gate,  Regent's  Park,  202. 


352 


INDEX   OF   TLACES. 


Hanover  Square,  41,  99,  219. 

Ilamvell,  151. 

llurcoiirt  Buildings,  Miikllo  Tcniiile 

Lane,  183. 
Hare  Court,  Temple,  8,  189. 
Ilarle}'    Street,    (."avendish    Square, 

109,"  248. 
Harp  Alley,  Shoe  Lane,  314. 
Harrington,  Middlesex,  242. 
Harrington  Road,  South  Kensington, 

14(i. 
Harris    Place,    Sloane    Street,    194, 

216,  217,  271. 
Harrow  Tavern,  Fleet  Street,  313. 
Hartshorne    Lane    (Northumberland 

Street,  Strand),  171-172. 
Hart  Street,  Hloomshiiry  Square,  88. 
Hart  Street,  Covent  Garden,  302. 
Hart   Street,    Crutched   Friars,   233, 

234,  235,  238. 
Hastings    Street,   Burton    Crescent, 

271. 
Hatton  Garden,  322. 
Haycock's  Ordinary,  208. 
Haves  Station,  242. 
Hayniaiket,  1,  2,  9,  18,  104, 128,  274. 
Haymarket  Theatre,  104. 
Hay's   Lane,   Tooley  Street,   South- 

wark,  179. 
Hayward's  Place,   St.  John's   Gate, 

Clerkenwell,  75. 
Heath  Road,  Twickenham,  219. 
Heaven  Tavern,  Lindsay  Lane,  238. 
Hellespont,  50. 

Hell  Tavern,  Westminster,  238. 
Hendon  Road,  Ilanipslead  Heath,  G8. 
Henrietta    Street,    Covcut    Garden, 

222,  273. 
Henry  YII.'s   Chapel,  Westminster 

Abbey,  5-0,  47. 
Hercules'  Pillars  Alley,  Fleet  Street, 

237. 
Hercules'  Pillars  Tavern,  Hyde  Park, 

273,  291. 
Hertford   Street,   Mayfair,   23,    273, 

279. 
Hertingfordbur\-,  9. 
Higham  Hill,  Walthamstow,  89. 
Highgate,  13,  58-59,  GO,  128,  148. 


Ilighgate  Cemetery,  99,  103,  130. 
Highgate  (,'luirehyard,  59-GO. 
Highgate  Grannnar  Sciiool,  258. 
Highgate  Hill,  13,  58,  207. 
High  Ilolborn,  31G. 
High  Laver,  Essex,  198. 
High  Road,  Tottcniiani,  314. 
High  Street,  Borough,  10,  17,  48,  80, 

1^03,  320. 
High  Street,  Claiiham,  200. 
High  Street,  Hanipstead,  IG. 
High  Street,  Islington,  70,  120. 
High   Street,    Kensington,    G2,    150, 

305. 
High  Street,  Marylebone,  12,  30,  83. 
High  Street,  Piitiiey,  149. 
Hill  Street,  Berkeley  S(iuare,  312. 
Hill,  The,  Hanipstead  Heath,  G8. 
Holborn,  44,  llG-117,  133,  183,  187, 

212,  213,  214,  2G0,  273,313. 
Holborn  Bridge,  26. 
Holborn  llill,'301. 
Holborn  Viaduct,  26,  117,  120,  131, 

301. 
Holland  Arms  Inn,  Kensington,  4. 
Holland  House,  1,  3,  4,  G8,  202,  220. 

258,  275,  279,  299. 
Holland  Lane,  4. 
Holland  Park,  150. 
Holland  Street,  South wark,  270. 
Holies  Street,  Cavendish  Scjuare,  30. 
Holly  Bush  Inn,  Hanipstead,  14. 
Holly  Hill,  Hanipstead,  14. 
Holly   Lodge,    Campden   Hill,    202- 

203. 
Holy   TrinitA'  Church,  Little  Queen 

Street,  Ilolborn,  187. 
Holywell  Lane,  Shoreditch,  172,  204. 
Holywell  Street,  Strand,  I'M. 
Hook  and  Eye  Club,  154. 
Hope  Theatre,  Bankside,  268. 
Hornsey  Churchyard,  258. 
Horse  and  Groom  Tavern,  Edmonton, 

192. 
Horsemonger  Lane,  145,  146. 
Horsemonger  Lane  Gaol,  145-146. 
Hotels  (see  Taverns). 
Iloundsditch,  47. 
House  of  Commons,  27,  76,  207,  238. 


INDEX  OF   PLACES. 


353 


House  of  Lords,  31. 

IIiHises  of  Parliament,  71,  118. 

Howard  Street,  Strand,  63. 

Hoxton  Fields,  Shoreditch,  173. 

Hoxton  Square,  Shoreditch,  173. 

Hull,  207. 

Huinnuuns    Hotel,   Coveiit    Garden, 

68,  6i). 
Hungerford  Market,  Strand,  80-81. 
Hungerford  Stair-,  Strand,  80-81. 
Huntington,  232,  233. 
Hutton    Street,     Salisbury    Square, 

229. 
Hyde  Park,  149,  273,  2d3,  303. 
Hyde  Park  Corner,  240,  242,  261,  300. 
Hyde  Park  Place,  85. 

IxNER  Temple,  19,  21,  40,  G2,  67, 

309. 
Inner  Temple  Gateway',  27,  160,  27-5. 
Inner  Temple   Lane,    21,    159,    160, 

161,  189. 
Inns  {see  Taverns). 
Institution  of  Civil  Engineers,  Great 

George  Street,  Westminster,  34. 
Ireland  Yard,  Doctors'  Commons,  205, 

266. 
Ironmongers'  Lane,  179. 
Islington,    53,  54,   60,  69-70,  86-87. 

122,  126,  249,  308. 
Islington  Green,  69. 
Ivy  Lane,  Newgate  Street,  44,  166, 

167,  187. 
Ivy  Lane  Club,  166,  169. 

Jack's    Coffee    House   (Walker's 

Hotel),  124-125. 
Jacob's  Wells  Mews,  George  Street, 

Manchester  Square,  102. 
James  Street,  York  Street,  Bucking- 
ham Gate,  115. 
Jeffreys  Street,  Camden  Town,  82. 
Jermyn   Street,  St.   .James's    Street, 

18,  104,  128,  227,    263,    272,    274, 

288. 
Jerusalem     Chamber,     Westminster 

Abbey,  5,  64,  229. 
Jerusalem  Tavern,  St.  John's  Gate, 

157. 


Jewin  Street,  Cripplegate,  214. 

Jewry  Street,  City,  47. 

Johnson's  Buildings,  Inner  Temple, 

21,  1.59,  189. 
Johnson's   Court,   Fleet   Street,  158, 

102,  163. 
John  Street,  Bedford  Row,  87. 
John   Street,   Hanipstead,  ISO,    181, 

182. 
John  Street,   Mecklenburgh  Square, 

82-83. 
John  Street,  Pall  Mall,  202. 
Joiner  Street,  Soutluvark,  10. 
Joll}-  Farmer  Tavern,  Chuixh  Street, 

Edmonton,  192. 
Jumj)  Tavern,  143. 

Ke.\ts's  Bejjch,  Well  Walk,  Hanip- 
stead, 180. 

Keats's   Corner,  Well  Uoad,  Hanip- 
stead, 180. 

Keats's  Cottage,  John  Street,  Hanip- 
stead, 182. 

Keats's    Villa,    Well    Eoad,    Hanip- 
stead, 180. 

Kensal  Green  Cemeterj',  72, 139,  149, 
152,  280,  305. 

Kensington,   ],   3,   4,  9,  62,  63,  111, 
202,  228,  229,  299,  303,  304,  .305. 

Kensington    Church    {set    St.    Mary 
the  Virgin ). 

Kensington  College,  228. 

Kensington  Gore,  195. 

Kensington  House,  150. 

Kensington  Palace,  299. 

Kensington     Palace    Gardens,    305^ 
306. 

Kensington  Road,  3,  4,  150,  275. 

Kensington  Square.  1,  3,  289. 

Kentish  Town,  179. 

Kerion  Lane,  City,  45. 

Kew  Foot  Lane,  Richmond,  308. 

Kew  Green,  38. 

Kilhurn    Priory,    St.   John's    Wood, 
154. 

King  of  Clubs,  170,  2-58,  280. 

King's  Arms  Tavern,  Pall  Mall,  9. 

King's  Bench  Prison,  Southwark,  17, 
141. 


354 


INDEX   OF   PLACES. 


King's  Bench  Walk,  Inner   Teniplo, 

G2,  188. 
King's  Ikiul  Cliilj,  JGti-KJT. 
King's   Head  'ravern,   Fleet   Street, 

>2;i8. 
King's  Ih'Uil  Tavern,  Islington,  239. 
King's  Iloiul  Tiivern,  Ivy  Lane,  1(!7. 
King's  Head  Tavern,  Pall  Mall,  2J0. 
King's  Head  Tavern,  Tower  Street, 

•2:». 
King's  Place,  Pall  ALilI,  11. 
King's  Koad,  Canuien  Town,  82. 
King's  Koail,  Fulham,  -i. 
King's     Koad    ( Theobald's     Road), 

Bedford  Row,  87,  88. 
King's  Si|uare  (Solio  Scjuare).  01,  101. 
King's  Scjuare  Court,  Solio,  01. 
Kingston,  207. 
Kingstou-upon-Hull,  208. 
Kingston-on-Tlianies,  iVl. 
King  Street,  Cheapside,  5C,  260. 
King  Street,  Covent  Garden,  57,  DG, 

15G,  258,  278,  307. 
King   Street,  Grosvenor  S(|uare,  90. 
King  Street,  St.  James's  Street,   11, 

:j()5. 
King   Street,   Westminster,   75,  2'J3, 

239,  285,  280,  297,  300. 
King  William  Street,  City,  125. 
King  William  Street,  Strand,  282. 
Kit  Kat  Club,  8,  64,  218,  289,  290. 
Knightsbridge,  239. 

Lady  Chapel,  Westminster  Abbey, 

47. 
Lalla  Rookh  Cottage,  Muswell  Hill, 

221. 
Lamb's  Cottage,  Edmonton,  192. 
Lancaster  Court,  Strand,  244. 
Langliam,  Norfolk,  207. 
Langliam    Street,     Marylebone,    21, 

37. 
Lansdowne  House,  Berkeley  Scjuare, 

220. 
Lant  Street,  Borough,  81. 
Lauderdale    House,    Highgate    Hill, 

207,  208. 
Lawn    Bank,    .John    Street,    Harnp- 

stead,  180,  181,  182. 


Lawn  Cottagi^,  John   Street,  Ilamp- 

stead,  181. 
Lawrence    I\Ianor    House,    Chelsea, 

281. 
Lawrence  Street,  Chelsea,  281. 
Leadeidiall  .Market,  185. 
Leg  Tavern,  King  Street,  Westmin- 
ster, 236. 
Leicester  Court,  Leicester  Fields,  149. 
Leicester       Fields       {see      Leiee^ter 

Square). 
Leicester    House,    Leicester    Fields, 

93,  285. 
Leicester  Square,  61,   137,   149,  288, 

297,  299. 
Leonard  Place,  Kensington,  150. 
Lewis  Place,   Great  Orniund  Street, 

201. 
Lewis    Place,    Hammersmith    Road, 

Fnlhain,  194. 
Lichfield,  1. 

Lime  Grove,  Putney  Hill,  113. 
Lincoln's   Inn,  G1,"g2,  223,  226,  232, 

320. 
Lincoln's  Inn    Fields,  8,  37,  54,  74, 

84,  llO,  195,  198,  217,  238. 
Lincoln's    Inn    Gateway,    171,    172, 

173. 
Lindsay  Lane,  Westminster,  238. 
Lion  and  Sun  Hotel.  Highgate,  59. 
Lisbon,  Spain,  106. 
Lisle    Street,    Leicester   Square,    87, 

143,  285. 
Litchfield  Street,  Soho,  -309. 
Literary  Club  {see  The  Club). 
Little  Britain,  110,  111,  144,  1.55. 
Little  College  Street,  Camden  Town, 

82. 
Little  Dean's  Yard,  Westminster,  51. 
Little  NewjHirt  Street,  Long  Acre,  93. 
Little   Queen    Street,   Holborn,    186, 

187. 
Little  Ryder  Street.  297. 
Little  Tower  Street,  307. 
Little  Turnstile,  Holborn,  213. 
Liverpool  Road,  188. 
Lloyd's,  Abchurch  Lane,  290. 
Load   of    Hav   Tavern,    Haverstock 

Hill,  289,  2*90. 


INDEX   OF    PLACES. 


355 


Lockitt's   Ordinary,    Charing  Cross, 

24«. 
Lombard  Street,  152,   197,  239,  240, 

290,  ;J00. 
London    Bridge,    25,    199,    209,   225, 

238,  2GG,  295. 
London  Institntion,  Finsbury  Circus, 

78,  245. 
London  Wall,  177,  195,  196,  200,  2-31. 
Long   Acre,  viii,  x,  29,  61,  92,    96, 

247,  301,  302. 
Long's  Hotel,  New  Bond  Street,  32, 

34,  203. 
Lordship's    Lane    (or   Road),    Stoke 

Newington,  77. 
Lothbury,  138. 
Lovell's  Court,  Paternoster  Row,  253, 

254. 
Lower  Belgrave  Place  (Buckingham 

Palace  Road),  71-72. 
Lower  Grosvenor  Street,  New  Bond 

Street,  73,  273. 
Lower  Heath  Road,  Hampstead,  180. 
Lower  Richmond  Road,  154. 
Lower  Rosoman  Street,  Clerkenwell, 

318. 
Lower  Series  Place,  Fleet  Street,  8. 
Luke  Street,  Westminster,  71. 
Lyceum  Theatre,  113. 

iM.VIDA  Y,\LK,  154. 

Maid  Lane,  Bankside,  206. 
Maidenhead    Court,    St.  :^L^rtin's-le- 

Grand,  212. 
Maiden   Lane,  Covent  Garden.  207, 

24"). 
Maiden  Lane,  L^pper  Thames  Street, 

45. 
:\rall.  The.  41,  213. 
^Manchester  Square,  102,  114. 
Manor  House,  ('hiswick,  241. 
]\Iansion  House,  City,  275. 
:\rari)le  Arch,  viii,  86,  293. 
Marbledown  Place,  Burton  Crescent, 

271. 
^Margaret  Street,  Cavendish  Square, 

•36. 
INLirket  Lane,  Pall  Mall,  298. 
Mark  Lane,  City,  31G. 


Marshalsea  Place,  Southwark,  80. 
Marshalsea  Prison,  79-80,  81,  82,  320. 
Marylebone  Church,  140. 
Marj-lebone  High  Street,  12. 
Marylebone  Lane,  114. 
Marylebone  Road,  viii,  12,  30,  83, 14G. 
Marylebone  Street,  21. 
Mawson  Lane,  Chiswick,  241. 
Mawson  Row,  Chiswick,  241. 
Maynard  Street,  Muswell  Hill,  221. 
Mav's  Buildings,  St.  Martin's  Lane, 

274. 
Mecklenburgh  Square,  82. 
Mercers'  Hall,  179. 
Merchant Taj'lors'  School,  1,  275,  285. 
Mermaid  Tavern,  Cheapside,  20, 175- 

176,  270. 
Metropolitan  Meat   Market,   Charter 

House  Street,  19. 
Michael's    Grove,    Brompton    Road, 

1.53. 
Middle  Heath  Road,  Hampstead,  180. 
Middle  Scotland  Yard,  37. 
Middlesex  Hospital,  Mortimer  Street, 

140,  199. 
Middle  Temple,   27,   63,  67,  75,  78, 

100,  104,  121,   126,  220,  249,  258, 

264,  273,  284.  322. 
Middle  Temple  Gate.  27. 
Middle  Temple  Hall,  269. 
Jliddleton  Buildings,  Regent  Street, 

.37. 
Milbourne  House,  Barnes  Common, 

106. 
Mile  End,  250. 
Milk  Street,  Cheapside,  17,  170,  222, 

2-36. 
Mill  Walk,  Battersea,  242. 
Milton  Street,  Cripplegate,  78,  108. 
^Mincing  Lane,  235. 
:\rinories,  47,  276,  317. 
^lissolonghi,  Greece,  34. 
Milford  Lane,  Strand,  170,  258. 
^Mitre  Chambers,  Fenchitrch  Street, 

2-36. 
^litre  Court  Buildings,  Temple,  188. 
Mitre  Court,  Fleet  Street,  169. 
Mitre  Court,  Wood  Street,  Cheapside, 

2.36. 


356 


INDEX   OF    I'LACES. 


."Mitre  Tavern,  Fencliuuli  Street,  23G 

Mitre  Tavern,  KKut  Stivit,  108,  1G9, 
2:56. 

Mitre  Tavern,  St.  James's  Market, 
103-KU. 

Mitre  Tavern,  Wood  Street,  Cheap- 
side,  2:56. 

Moninoutii  House,  Lawrence  Street, 
Clielsea,  281. 

Montague  Square,  2.'5. 

Monument  Yard,  ("ity,  118. 

Moorliclds,  19.5,  190, ':{!;■),  :J18. 

Mortimer  Street,  Cavendisli  Scjuare, 
140,  151,  199. 

Mortlake,  9. 

Mount  Street,  Berkelej'  Square,  71. 

Mulberry  ("luh,  118. 

Mulberry  Gardens,  95,  101-102. 

Museum  Club,  155. 

Muswell  Hill,  221. 

Muswell  Hill  Road,  221. 

Nag's  He.vd  Tavekx,  High  Street, 

Borough,  320. 
National     Deposit     Bank,     Uussell 

Street,  Covent  Garden,  55. 
National  Portrait  Gallery,  9,  14G. 
Navv    Office,    Seething    Lane,    233- 

234. 
Neville  Court,  Fetter  Lane,  17. 
New  Bond  Street,  31,  33,  107,  2G3. 
New  Buildings,  Chiswick,  241. 
Newcomen  Street,  Southwark,  320. 
New  Court,  Temple,  7. 
New  Court,  Tiirogmorton  Street,  130. 
New  Finchley  Road,  139. 
New  Fish  Street,  City.  239. 
Newgate  Prison,  2-32,"  261,  320. 
Newgate  Street,  18,  26,  57,  97,  117, 

146,  167,  168,  187,  28."). 
Newington  Causeway,  146. 
Newington  Green,  16,  76,  2.56,  316. 
New  Inn,  Wych  Street,  222. 
New    Law.  Courts,    170,    195,    196, 

198. 
New  Oxford  Street,  viii. 
New  Palace  Yard,  117-118.  208,  238. 
New  Park  Street,  Southwaik,  266. 
Newport  Market.  3055. 


Newport   Street,  St.  Martin's  Lane, 

01,  242,  309. 
New   tiueen   Street,   Upper  Thames 

Street,  17G. 
New  River,  190,  191. 
New  Road  (Marvlebone  Road),  viii, 

146. 
New  Square,  Lincoln's  Inn,  226. 
Newstead  Abbey,  34. 
New  Street,  Covent  Garden,  156. 
Newton  House,  Campden  Hill,  228. 
New  Wells,  Clerkenwell,  318. 
Nightingale  Lane,  lligligale,  58. 
Norfolk  Street,  Strand,  58,  217,  2.32. 
North  Bank,  St.  .John's  Wood,  98-99. 
North  End,  Fnlliam,  10,  68,  254,  255. 
North  End  Road.  8. 
North  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square, 

79,  80. 
North  Road,  Highgate,  59. 
Northumberland  Street,  Marvlebone, 

78. 
Northumberland  Street,  Strand,  152, 

155,  172. 
Nottingham  Place,  Marvlebone,  23. 
Notting  Hill,  2J9. 

October  Clur,  243.  244,  300. 

Old  Bailey,  120,  261,  323. 

Old  Baptfst  Head  Tavern,  126,  170. 

Old  Bond  Street,  21,  292,  293. 

<  )ld  Broad  Street,  18,  235,  240,  317, 
318. 

Old  Brompton  Road,  146. 

Old  Burlington  Street,  10,  112. 

Old  Cavendish  Street,  Oxford  Street, 
37. 

Old  Fish  Street,  City,  239. 

Old  Jewry,  89,  245. 

Old  Kensington  Square  (see  Ken- 
sington Square). 

Old  Palace  Yard.  251. 

Old  Red  Lion  Inn,  126,  170,  ;508. 

Old  St.  Pancras  Road,  118.  271. 

One  Tun  Tavern,  St.  James's  Market, 
274. 

Onslow  Square,  -303-304. 

Orange  Chapel,  St.  Martin's  Street, 
227. 


INDEX   OF   PLACES. 


357 


Orange  Street,  Leicester  Square,  89, 

137. 
Orbell's  Buildings,  Kensington,  228. 
Orchard    Street,    Portman    Square, 

27.3,  279. 
Orcliard  Street,  Westminster,  137. 
Our  Club,  154. 

Oxendon  Street,  Haymarket,  18. 
Oxford,  2,  9,  GO,  114,  195,  197,  198, 

232,  234,  287,  318. 
Oxford  Circus,  18. 
Oxford  Street,  viii,  18,  78,  140,  293. 
Ozinda's  Coffee  House,  300. 

Paddixgton,  147. 

Palace  Chambers,  St.  James's  Street, 

303. 
Palace  Gardens,  Kensington,  202. 
Palace  Gate,  Kensington,  150. 
Palace  Green,  Kensington,  304. 
Palace  Yard,  Lambeth,  25. 
Palace  Yard,  Westminster,  76. 
Pall  Mall,  7,  9, 11,  24,  28,  57,  58,  114, 

144,  151,  154,  204,  206,  207,  221, 

244,  247,  251,  258,  262,  278,  290, 

292.  297,  298,  300,  306,  308,  312. 
Pall  Mall  Place,  Pall  Mall.  11. 
Palsgrave's  Head  Inn.  Strand,  247. 
Palsgrave's  Place,  Strand,  247. 
Palsgrave  Restaurant,  Strand,  208. 
Pantheon,  Oxford  Street,  78. 
Paper  Buikhngs,  Temple,  183. 
Paradise  Tavern,  238. 
Park  Lane,  24,  32,  89. 
Park  Place,  St.  .James's  Street,  144, 

288. 
Park  Street,  Grosvenor  Square,  90. 
Park   Street,   Sonthwark,  17,  18,  70, 

163,  174,  266. 
Park  Village,  Regent's  Park,  153. 
Paris,  France,  295. 
Paris  Garden,  Bankside,  268. 
Parliament  Street,   Westminster,  81, 

244. 
Parsloe's  Coffee  House,  vSt.  James's 

Street,  62. 
Parson's    Green,    Fulliani,    13,    254, 

255. 
Parson's  Green  Lane,  131. 


Paternoster  Row,  22,  23,  44,  94,  105, 

253. 
Paul's  Cross,  108-109. 
Paul's  School,  109,  211,  233. 
Paul's  Wharf,  105. 
Pavement,    High    Street,    Clapham, 

200. 
Pavement,  Moorfields,  177-178. 
Peabody  Buildings,  Drury  Lane,  75. 
Peak  Hill  Aveime,  Sydenham,  36. 
Peak  Hill  Road,  Sydenham,  36. 
Peak  Hill,  Sydenham,  36. 
Peckham,  119. 

Peerless  Pool,  Old  Street  Road,  215. 
Pembridge  Villas,  Bayswater,  203. 
Penton  Street,  Pentonville,  126. 
Pentonville  Road,  viii,  126,  146. 
Peterborough  House,  Parson's  Green, 

255. 
Petersham,  112. 
Peter  Street,  Westminster,  70. 
Petty  France,  Westminster,  213,  214. 
Phtcnix  Alley,  Long  Acre,  301-302. 
Phoenix  Street,  Somers  Town,  116. 
Physicians'     Hal!,    Warwick    Lane, 

Paternoster  Row,  94. 
Piazza,  Covent  Garden,  51,  154,  155, 

219,  274,  312. 
Piccadillo  Hall,  295. 
Piccadilly,  10,   30,  32,  34,  37,  53,  73, 

242,  261,262. 
Piccadilly  Circus,  30. 
Piccadilly  Terrace,  32. 
Pickett   Street,  St.    Clement  Danes, 

196. 
Pied  Bull  Inn,  Islington,  249-250. 
Pillars  of  Hercules  Tavern,  261. 
Pimlico,  37. 

Pineapple  Inn,  New  Street,  156. 
Pinner's  Court,  Old  Broad  Street,  18. 
Pinner's  Hall,  17,  18,  317,  318. 
Pitcher's   Court,    Great   Bell    Alley, 

Coleman  Street,  City,  20. 
Pitt's  Buildings,  Kensington,  228. 
Pitt's  Place,  Parson's  Green,  254. 
Pitt  Street,  Kensington,  228. 
Playhouse  Yard,  Ludgate  Hill,  265. 
Plough  Court,  Carey  Street,  198. 
Plough  Court,  Lombard  Street,  240- 


358 


INDEX   OF    I'LACES. 


rioiigh  Inn,  High  Street,  Clapliam, 

201. 
Plough    Inn,    I'lougli    Court,   Carey 

Street,  VM. 
Poets'   Corner,  Westminster  Abbey, 

5,  37,  47,  71,  79,  130,  274,  285,  280, 

288,  315. 
Poet's  Head,  Pha-nix  Alley,  301. 
Poland  Street,  Oxford  Street,  72. 
Polygon,  Soniers  Town,  110. 
Pompeii,  24. 

Pontack's  Ordinary,  102,  209,  300. 
Pope's  Head  Alley,  Cornliill,  239. 
Pope's  Head   Inn,    Chancery   Lane, 

239. 
Pope's  Head  Inn,  Pope's  Head  Alley, 

239. 
Pope's  Villa,  Twickenham,  241-242. 
Portland  Hotel,  Portland  Place,  Ox- 
ford Street,  :i20. 
Portland  Place,  Hannnersmith,  58. 
Portland  Place,   Oxford  Street,  320. 
Portman  Square,  30,  102,  312. 
Portsea,  79. 
Portsmouth,  125. 
Portsmouth     Street,    Lincoln's     Inn 

Fields,  143. 
Portugal  IJow,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 

74. 
Portugal  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 

8,  10,  74,  143. 
Poultnev  Hill,  115. 
Poultry",  77,  137,  179,  223,  277. 
Princes  Square,   Katcliffe   Highway, 

296,  297. 
Princes  Street,  Hanover  Square,  256. 
Priory,  St.  John's  Wood,  98-99. 
Prospect    Place,    Newington    Butts, 

284. 
Puddle  Wharf,  Blackfriars,  265, 
Pump  Court,  104. 
Putney,  9,  141,  149. 
Putney  Bridge,  142,  154. 
Pntnev  Common,  153,  154. 
Putney  Hill,  113. 

Quaker  Tavekn,  Westminster,  239. 
Queen  Anne  Mansions,  Westminster, 
132,  214. 


Queen     Anne      Street,      Cavendish 

Square,  21,  27,  71,  131. 
Queen's    Arms    Tavern,   Cheapside, 

179. 
Queen's     Arms     Tavern,     Newgate 

Street,  97,  1G8. 
(iueen's    Arms    Tavern,    St.    Paul's 

Churchyard,  167-168. 
Queensbury  House,  112. 
C^ueen's  College,  Cambridge,  19. 
(.Queen's  College,  O.xford,  2. 
Queen's    Gate,    South    Kensington, 

146. 
Queen's  Head  Alley,  Newgate  Street, 

167. 
Queen's  Head  Lane,  Islington,  249. 
Queen's  Head  Street,  Islington,  2r)0. 
Queen's    Head    Tavern,    Cheapside, 

179. 
Queen's  Head  Tavern,  Islington,  249, 

250. 
Queen's  Hotel,  Queen    Street,  Soho, 

125. 
Queen's  Road,  Finchley  Road,  139. 
Queen's  Row,  Knightsbridge,  226. 
Queen  Square, Bloomsbury,  51,  72,  73. 
Queen   Street,  Berkeley  Square,  273, 

280. 
Queen  Street,  Hammersmith,  226. 
Queen  Street,  Soho,  124,  125. 
Queen  Street,  Upper  Thames  Street, 

176,  237. 
Queen  Victoria  Street,  223,  265. 

Rainbow  Tavern,  27. 

Eanelagh,  60. 

Ratcliffe  Highway.  54,  296. 

Rathbone  Place,  Oxford  Street,  131. 

Rational  Club,  155. 

Reading,  217. 

Red   Bull   Theatre,  Clerkenwell,  75, 

264,  316. 
Red  Bull  Yard,  Clerkenwell,  75,  264, 

315,  316. 
Red  Lion  and  Sun  Hotel,  Highgate, 

59. 
Red  Lion  Fields,  Holborn,  214. 
Red  Lion  Hill,  Hampstead,  14. 
Red  Linn  Inn,  Parliament  Street,  81. 


INDEX   OF   PLACES. 


359 


Red  Lion  Square,  214,  248. 
lieform  Club,  154,  306. 
Regent's  Park,  18,  98,  138,  199,  262. 
Rhenish    Wine    Inn,    Canon    Row, 

Westminster,  239. 
Rhenish     Wine      Inn,    Steel     Yard, 

Upper  Thames  Street,  239. 
Richard's  Coffee  House  (Dick's),  67. 
Richmond,  62,  308. 
Richmond  Bridge,  62. 
Rising  Sun  Tavern,  Enfield,  191. 
Robert  Street,  Adelphi,  138. 
Robin  Hood   Tavern,   Essex   Street, 

Strand,  28. 
Robinson's    Coffee    House,    Charing 

Cross,  260. 
Rogue's  Lane,  Fleet  Street,  8. 
Rope  Makers'  Alley,  Moorfields,  77- 

78. 
Rope  Makers'  Street,  Moorfields,  78. 
Rosamond's  Pond,  St.  James's  Park, 

61. 
Rose  Street,  Bankside,  174. 
Rose  Street,  Covent  Garden,  viii,  29, 

95-96. 
Rose  Street,  Newgate  Street,  60. 
Rose  Tavern,  Brydges  Street,  113. 
Rose  Tavern,  Holborn  Hill,  301. 
Rose  Tavern,  Russell  Street,  Covent 

Garden,  2-39. 
Ro.se  Theatre.  Bankside,  174,  268. 
Rosslyn  Hill,  Hampstead,  16. 
Rota  Club,  208,  238. 
Round  Court,  Strand,  282. 
Royal  Academy  of  Arts,  32. 
Royal  Albert  Hall,  195. 
Royal  Exchange,  63,  69,  76,  77,  92, 

239,  313. 
Royal  Institution,  Albemarle  Street, 

102. 
Royal  Society,  229,  235. 
Rummer  Court,  Spring  Gardens,  246. 
Rummer  Tavern,    Spring    Gardens, 

246. 
Running   Footman   Tavern,   Charles 

Street,  Bei-keley  Square,  24. 
Russell  Square,  217. 
Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden,  x,  6, 

7,  21,  55,  62,  71,  101,  149,  154,  15.5, 


170,  189,  226,  237,   239,   243,  291, 

300. 
Rutland  House,  Aldersgate  Street,  75. 
Ryder  Street,  297. 

Sadlers  Wells  Theathe,  190. 
St.  Albans,  67. 

St.  Alban's  Place,  Haymarket,  298. 
St.  Alban's  Street,  Haymarket,  298. 
St.   Andrew's  Church,  Holborn,  87. 

131-132,  2-59. 
St.  Andrew's  Hill,  265. 
St.  Andrew' s-by -the- Wardrobe,  265- 
St.  Anne's  Church,  Carter  Lane,  265. 
St.  Anne's  Church,  Soho,  134. 
St.  Anne's  Hill,  Chelsea,  65. 
St.  Anne's  Lane  (St.  Anne's  Street), 

Westminster,  136-137. 
St.  Anne's  Street,  Westminster,  137. 
St.  Anthon3''s  Free  School,    Thread- 
needle  Street,  222. 
St.  Bartholomew-the-Great,  214. 
St.   Benedict's  Chapel,  Westminster 

Abbey,  20,  48. 
St.   Benefs   Church,   Paul's  Wharf, 

105. 
St.  Bennet  Fink,  16,  240. 
St.  Botolph's  Church,  Aldgate.  47. 
St.    Bride's    Church,    Fleet    Street, 

92,  199,  255. 
St.  Bride's  Churchyard,  Fleet  Street, 

211,  212. 
St.  Clement  Danes'  Church,  92,  117, 

165-166,  170,  195,  196,  231. 
St.   Dunstan's   Church,  Canterbury, 

225. 
St.  Dunstan's  Church,  Fleet  Street, 

6,  17,  91,  198,  257. 
St.  Dunstan's  Churchyard,  314. 
St.  Faith's  Church.  2n. 
St.      George's      Church,      Hanover 

Square,  4,  99,  293. 
St.  George's  Church,  Southwark,  SO, 

81,  320. 
St.  George's  Hospital,  Ilvde   Park, 

149. 
St.  George's  Place,  Hyde  Park,  149. 
St.    George    Street,    Shadwell,     54, 

296. 


360 


INDEX  or  TLACES, 


St.  Giles's  Churcli,  Cripplcgate,  76, 

77,  108,  215.  '21G. 
St.  Giles's-iii-tlic-Kielils,  208,  276. 
St.  Helen's,  Bisliopsgate,  2G8. 
St.    James's    Cluircli,    Clorkcnwell, 

au. 

St.  James's  Chuivli,  Garlickhithe,  45. 
St.  James's  Cofteu  lluusf,  St.  James's 

Street,  7,  89,  290,  299. 
St.   James's   Hotel,   Jennyn   Street, 

203. 
St.  James's  Market,  103,  104,    274, 

298. 
St.  James's  Market  Place,  17,  18. 
St,  James's  Park,  41,  Gl,  101,  115, 

213,  214,  238,  246. 
St.  James's  Place,  1,  6,  32,  73,  90,  205, 

257-258,  2(>2,  285. 
St.  James's  Square,  28,  49,  109-110, 

297. 
St.  James's  Street,  7,  8,  31,  33,  35, 

37,54,  62,  89,  110,  114,   115,  142, 

167,  204,  221,  240,  244,  247,  259, 

274,  291,  297,  303,  310,  312. 
St.     John's     Chapel,    John     Street, 

Hampstead,  l!^2. 
St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  171. 
St.  John's  Gate,  Clerkeuwc'.l,  157, 

260. 
St.  John's   Lane,    Clerkenwell,  126, 

170,  260. 
St,  John's  Road,  Islington,  -308. 
St.   John's    Street,    Clerkenwell,   19, 

75,  260,  264,  315. 
St.   John's   Street   Road,    Islington, 

126,  170. 
St.  John's  Wood,  1.38,  154,  193. 
St.      John -the -Evangelist,      Smith 

Square,  50-51. 
St.  Katherine-Cree,  47. 
St.    Lawrence's    Church,   Brentford, 

309. 
St.  Luke's  Church,  Chelsea,  63,  225, 

264,  290.  298. 
St.  Luke's  Hospital,  Old  Street,  215. 
St.  Margaret's  Church,  Westminster, 

.35.  66-67,  2-33,  252,  310. 
St.  Margaret's  Hill.  Southwark,  48. 
St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  11,  41.  92, 


104,  171,  172,  173,  220,  245,  278, 
301,  .-JO^. 
St.  Martins  Lane,  61,  156,  176,  242, 

274,  295. 
St.  Martin's-le-Grand,  97,  lu8,  212. 
St.  Martin's  Street,  Leicester  Scjuare, 

72-73,  227,  228,  299. 
St.  Mary  Aldermary,  Watling  Street, 

45. 
St.  Maiy-at-Hill,  324. 
St.  Marv  Axe,  87,  317. 
St.  Maryiebone  Churcli,  12,  -30. 
St.  Mary-lc-Bow  Church,  210. 
St.  Mary-lc-Savoy,  320. 
St.  Mary-le-Strand,  116. 
St.  Mary  Magdalen,  Milk  Street,  17. 
St.  Mary  Magdalen,  Ricinnond,  308. 
St.  Mary  Overy.  107,  108,  12G,  127, 

209,  266,  267*  2G9. 
St.     Mary's     Chapel,     Westminster 

Abbey,"  47. 
St.  JLiry's  Church,  Ealing,  309. 
St.  Mary's  Church,  Kensington,  G2, 

63,  151,  203. 
St.  Mary's  Church,  Putney,  113. 
St.  Mary's  Church,  Wyndham  Place, 

Bryanston  Square,  194. 
St.  Mary  Woolchurcli,  275. 
St.  Michael's  Alley,  Cornhill,  245. 
St.  Michael's  Church,  Cornhill,  128. 
St.  Miciiael's  Church,  Highgate,  58. 
St.  Michael's  Church,  Old  Verulam, 

13. 
St.  Michael's  Court,  Cornhill,  245. 
St.  ]\Iildrcd's  Church,  Bread  Street, 

271. 
St.  Mildred's  Court,  Poultry,  137. 
St.  Nicholas's  Church,  Deptford,  204- 

205. 
St.    Olave's    Chiirch,    Hart    Street, 

233,  234,  235,  238. 
St.  Paucras  Gardens.  118,  271,  272. 
St.    Pancras-in-the-Fields    (Old    St, 

Pancras    Church),   116,    118,   271, 

273,  316, 
St.  Paul's  Cathedral,   .39,  109,  276- 

277,  279. 
St.  Paul's  Church,  Covcnt  G.irden.  x, 

29,  41,  218,  283,  284,  302,  321.  323. 


INDEX   OF   PLACES. 


361 


St.  Paul's  Church,  Dock  Street,  54. 
St.    Paul's    Church,    Hammersmith, 

226. 
St.  Paul's   Churchyard,  7,  109,  137, 

167-168,  211,  2.36,  271. 
St.  Paul's  School  (see  Paul's  School). 
St.  Paul's  School,  Shadwell,  54. 
St.  Peter's  Church,   Sumner  Street, 

Southwark  Bridge  Road,  268. 
St.  Peter's  College  (see  Westminster 

School). 
St.  Peter's  Street,  St.  Albans,  67. 
St.   Saviour's    Church,    Southwark, 

107,  108,  126,  127,  20J,  260,  267, 

269. 
St.  Sepulchre's  Church,  Holborn,  26, 

116,  117. 
St.  Swithin's  Church,  London  Stone, 

92. 
St.  Thomas's  Hospital,  10,  178. 
St.   Vedast's   Church,    Foster  Lane, 

136. 
Salisbury,  1. 
Salisbury    Court,    Fleet   Street   (see 

Salisbury  Square). 
Salisbury  Square,  92,  118,   198,  229, 

253,  264. 
Salutation    and   Cat    Inn,    Newgate 

Street,  60,  187,  285. 
Salutation  Inn,  Newgate  Street,  00. 
Samson's      Ordinary,      St.      Paul's 

Churchyard,  236. ' 
Sandford,  Manor  House,  Chelsea,  3. 
Sand}'  End,  Fulhani,  2. 
Sardinia  Place,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 

111. 
Sargent's  Inn,  64. 
Savile   Club,  274. 
Savile   House,  Twickenham,  219. 
Savile      Row,    Burluigtou    Gardens, 

112,130,273,  374,279. 
Savoy,  The,  69,  238. 
Savov  Buildings,  Strand,  170,  290, 

300. 
Savoy  Chapel,  46,  320. 
Savoy  Hill.  46. 
Savoy  Palace,  46. 
Savoy  Street,  46,  320. 
Sayes  Court,  Deptford.  100,  101. 


Sayes  Court  Street,  101. 
Schomberg  House,  300. 
Scotland  Yard,  207,  213- 
Scriblerus  Club,  113,  243,  244,  300. 
Seething  Lane,  233,  234,  235,  2-30. 
Selby  House,  North  End,  Hammei-- 

smith,  254. 
Serle's  Coffee  House,  8,  10. 
Serle  Street,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  8, 

10,  198. 
Sessions  House,  Westminster,  239. 
Sevenoaks,  129,  200. 
Seymour  Place,  Connaught  Square, 

194. 
Seymour  Street,  Portman  Square,  23, 

36. 
Shacklewell,  184. 
Shadwell,  75. 
Shaftesbury      House,      Kensington 

Road,  275. 
Shanet  Place,  Strand,  247. 
Sheffield  Street,  Clare  Market,  290. 
Ship  Tavern,  Charing  Cross,  246. 
Ship  Tavern,  Little  Tower  Street,  307. 
Ship  Yard,  Strand,  196. 
Shire  Lane,  Fleet  Street,  8,  141,  218, 

291. 
Shoe  Lane,  v,  42,  43,  44,  124,  199, 

238,  314. 
Shooter's  Court,  Throgniorton  Street, 

1,30. 
Shoreditch,  42,  172,  227. 
Simpson's  Tavern,  170. 
Sir  Richard  Steele's  Tavern,  Haver- 
stock  Hill,  290. 
Skinner  Street,  Holborn,  26,  116-117. 
Slaughter's  Coffee  House,  61,  242. 
Sloane  Street,  Knightsbridge,  30, 150, 

194. 
Sloane  Terrace,  Sloane  Street,  30. 
Smith  Square,  Westminster,  50. 
Smith  Street,  Westminster,  284.  288. 
Smyrna    Coffee   House,    Pall    Mall, 

247,  299,  300.  308. 
Snow  Hill.  25-26,  117. 
Socictv  of  Arts,  v,  28,  -30,  90,    102, 

111,' 112,  222,  227,  273,  311. 
Soho  Square,  60,  61,  63,  78, 101,  124- 

125,  140. 


3G2 


INDKX   OF   PLACES. 


Somerset  House,  46,  C8,  310,  311. 
Somerset    I'lacc,    Portmau    Sciiian-, 

273. 
Somers  Town,  116,  141. 
Soutliamiiton     Buildings,     Holboru, 

];i;i,  i;i.^,  188,  loi. 

Soutliamiiton    ( 'ofiVc    Iluuse,    Soutli- 

ainptdu  Buildings,  135. 
Soutliamiiton     House,     Bloomsbury 

Square,  52. 
Southampton  House,  Holborn,  52. 
Southampton       How,       Bloomsbury 

S(|uaru,  128,  217,  248. 
Southampton  Square,  17. 
Southampton      Street,      Bloomsbury 

Square,  52. 
Southampton  Street,  Strand,  52,  03, 

321. 
South  Audley  Street,  41,  49,  50,  8J, 

137,  219. 
Southgate,  144. 

South  Kensington  {see  Kensington). 
South  Kensington  Museum,  83,  85, 

111. 
South  Sea  House,  184-185. 
South  Square,  Gray's  Inn,  202. 
Southwark,  10,  48."  70,  107,  141,  163, 

174,  178,  209,  238,  295. 
Soutiiwark  Bridge  Crossing,  260. 
Soutlnvark  Bridge  Road,  19,  174,  176, 

206. 
Spanish   Place,   Manchester  Square, 

102,  206. 
Spiller's  Head  Club,  54. 
Spring  Gardens,  41,  52,  5-3,  213,  240, 

282. 
Squire's  Coffee  House,  8. 
Stafford,  314. 

Stanhope  Place,  Oxford  Street,  293. 
Staple  Inn,  159. 
Star  and  Garter  Tavern,  Pall  Mall, 

247,  300. 
Star  Tavern,  Cheapside,  239. 
Steele's    Cottage,   Haverstock    Hill, 

289-290. 
Steele's    Studios,    Haverstock    Hill, 

290. 
Steel  Yard,  Upper  Thames  Street,  239. 
Stepne}'  Church,  250. 


Stevens's  Hotel,  New  Bond  Street,  31. 
Stockbridge  Terrace,  Pimlico,  37. 
Stock  Exchange,  130. 
Stoke  Court,  Stoke  Pogis,  128-129. 
Stoke   Newington,    16,   75,  77,   130, 

256,  317. 
Stoke  X<'\viiigton  Cluircli,  16. 
Stoke  Pogis,  128-129. 
Stoke  Pogis  Church,  129. 
Strand,  8,  56,  97,  106,  112,  113,  116, 

117,  17(1,   183,  197,  208,  227,  235, 

238,  247,  249,  2.5(i,  258,  272,  280, 

282,  290,  300,  310. 
Stratford-on-Avon,  264,  270. 
Stratford  Place,  O.Kford  Street,  279. 
Stratton  Street,  Piccadilly,  310. 
Strawberry  Hill,  53,  311,  312. 
Streatham,  Surrey,  102-163. 
Stretford,  Nottinghamshire,  50. 
Suffolk  Lane,  Upper  Thames  Street, 

275,  285. 
Suffolk  Street,  Haymarket,  298. 
Sumner  Place,  Onslow  Square,  304. 
Sumner  Street,  Southwark,  206. 
Sun-behind-the-Exchange  Inn,  239. 
Sunbury,  Middlesex,  23. 
Sun  Tavern,  Chancery  Lane,  239. 
Sun  Tavern,  King  Street,  AVestmin- 

ster,  239. 
Sun  Tavern,  Nqw  Fish  Street,  239. 
Surrey  Street,  Strand,  63,  C4. 
Surrey  Theatre,  Southwar'.i,  141. 
Sussex  Chambers,  Duke's  Street,  St. 

James's  Street,  37. 
Sussex  House,  Hammersmith,  206, 
Sussex  Place,  Regent's  Park,  262. 
Swallowfield,  217. 
Swallow  Place,  Oxford  Street,  18. 
Swallow  Street,  Piccadilly,  17,  18. 
Swan  Inn,  Fenchur.'h  Street,  239. 
Swan  Inn,  Old  Fish  Street,  239. 
Swan  Inn,  Tottenham,  314-315. 
Swedish  Church,  Ratcliffe  Highway, 

296. 
Sydenham,  30,  35,  36. 

Tarard  Ixx,  Southwark,  48. 
Tabernacle  Row,  Finsl)ury,  318. 
Talbot  Inn,  Southwark.  48. 


INDEX   OF    PLACES. 


363 


Talbot  Inu  Yard,  48. 

Taverns:  Adam  and  Eve,  Kensing- 
ton Eoad,.-aTw^  African,  St.  Mi- 
chael's Alley,  Conihill,  ^;  Albi- 
on, Aldersgate  Street,  130;  Albion, 
Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden, 
154-155;  Argyll  Koouis,  295;  Arun- 
del Hotel,  Norfolk  Street,  Strand, 
232;  Bear  and  Harrow,  Butcher 
Kow,  196;  Bear-at-the-Bridge-Foot, 
295,  323 ;  Bear  Inn,  Southwark, 
238: 'Bedford  Coffee  House,  (Jovent 
Garden,  51,  61,  106,  226,  242,  274, 
312;  Bedford  Head  Tavern,  Maid- 
en Lane,  Covent  Garden,  207;  Bed- 
ford Hotel,  Covent  Garden,  5,  303  ; 
Bedford  Tavern,  Maiden  Lane, 
Covent  Garden,  207;  Bell  Inn, 
Aldersgate,  301;  Bell  Inn,  Carter 
Lane.  270-271;  Bell  Inn,  Edmon- 
ton, ix,  192;  Bell  Inn,  King  Street, 
Westminster,  236,  244,  300;  Black 
Jack,  143;  Blue  Bells,  Lincoln's 
Inn  Fields,  2-38;  Boar's  Head, 
Eastcheap,  125,  270;  Brew  House, 
Axe  Yard,  75 ;  British  Coffee 
House,  170,  282;  Bull  and  Bush, 
Hammersmith,  8;  Bull,  Shore- 
ditch,  227;  Bull,  Tower  Hill,  231; 
Bull's  Head,  Clare  Market,  290; 
Bull's  Head,  Spring  Gardens,  52, 
53,  213;  ButiiiuX-Jw-Gr-liS,  1"5, 
260,-291,  300;  Carey  House,  Strand, 
238  ;  Castle,  Henrietta  Street, 
Covent  Garden,  273;  Castle,  Isling- 
ton, 54;  Castle,  Savoy,  238;  Cat  and 
Fiddle,  218;  Chapter  Coffee  House, 
22,  44,  124;  Chatelain's,  238; 
Cheshire  Cheese,  120,  170;  Child's, 
7;  Cider  Cellar,  Maiden  Lane, 
Covent  Garden,  245;  Clarendon 
Hotel,  New  Bond  Street,  167; 
Clifton's,  Butcher  Row,  170; 
Clunn's,  Covent  Garden,  154; 
Cock,  Bow  Street,  -322,  323;  Cock, 
Fleet  Street,  170,  238;  Cock,  Suf- 
folk Street,  238;  Cock,  Tothill 
Street,  234;  Cocoa  Tree,  7,  8.  247, 
259;   Cox's  Hotel,  Jennyn  Street, 


30;  Crooked  Billet,  Wimbledon, 
309;  Cross  Keys,  St.  John's 
Street,  Clerkenwell,  260;  Crown 
and  Anchor,  Arundel  Street, 
Strand,  155,  170,  258,  280;  Crown 
and  Horse-Shoes,  Entield,  191; 
('rowii,  Hercules  Pilhii-s'  Alley, 
237;  Crown,  King  Street,  Clieap- 
side,  260;  Crown,  King  Street,  I 
Westminster,  244;  Crown,  Vinegar' 
Yard,  274;  Devil,  Fleet  Street,  6, 
7,  124,  169,  175,  238,  290,  300; 
Dick's,  8,  67,  290;  Dolphin,  Seeth- 
ing Lane,  236;  Don  Saltero's, 
Chelsea,  112,  282,  291;  Doranl's 
Hotel,  Jermyn  Street,  30;  Doves, 
llanimersniith,  227,  308;  Duke  of 
York's,  Shire  Lane,  8;  Duke's 
Head,  Parson's  Green,  255;  Essex 
Head,  168 ;  Falcon,  Bankside,  25, 
176,  268,  270;  Feathers,  187; 
Fischer's  Hotel,  New  Bond  Street, 
31 ;  Fleece,  Covent  Garden,  237 ; 
Fountaine,  Strand,  170,  290,  300; 
Caraway's,  300;  George,  Church 
Street,  Kensington,  228;  George, 
Pall  Mall,  300;  George,  Strand, 
226,  227,  272;  Globe,  Bankside, 
266;  Globe,  Fleet  Street,  124,  300; 
Goat,  Charing  Cross,  238 ;  Golden 
Eagle,  New  Street,  238;  Golden 
Fleece,  Edmonton,  192;  Golden 
Hart,  Greenwich,  157;  Golden  L'on, 
Charing  Cross,  238  ;  Gordon's  Ho- 
tel, Albemarle  Street,  32;  Grecian, 
Devereux  Court,  Strand,  7, 10,  124, 
108.  229,  291;  Half  Moon,  Aiders- 
gate  Street,  64,  176,  323;  Hand-in- 
Hand,  Wimbledon,  309;  Harrow, 
Fleet  Street.  313;  Haycock's,  208; 
Heaven,  238  ;  IIoll,  238  ;  Hercules 
Pillars',  273,  291;  Holland  Arms, 
Kensington,  4;  Holly  Bush, 
Hampstead,  14;  Horse  and  Groom, 
Edmonton,  192;  Ilummums,  Co- 
vent Garden,  68-09;  Jack's 
(Walker's  Hotel),  Queen  Street, 
Soho,  124-125;  Jerusalem,  St. 
John's  Gate,   157;   Jolly    Farmer, 


364 


INDEX  OF   TLACES. 


Edmontnii,      1!I2;     .Jiiuiii      (Black 
.lack),    14;!;     Kiii-'s    Anus,    Pall 
Mall,  1);  Kiiiy's  Head,  Fleet  Street, 
238;  King's  Head,  Islington,  23!); 
King's     Head,     Ivy    Lane,     167; 
King-6     Head,    Pall     Mall,    290; 
King's   Head,   Tower  Street,  239; 
Leg,    King    Street,     Westminster, 
230;   Lien  and   Sun    Hotel,  High- 
gate,    59;    Load  of    Ha^",    Haver- 
stock     Hill,     289-290;      Lockitt's 
Ordinary,     Charing     Cross,    240; 
Long's   Hotel,    32,    34,    2G3;  Mer- 
maid, Cheapside,  20,  175-170,  270; 
Mitre,     Feiichurch     Street,     230 ; 
Mitre,  Fleet  Street,  168,   169,  236 ; 
Mitre,    St.   James's  Market,    103- 
104;  Mitre,   Wood  Street    Cheap- 
side,  236 ;  Mulberry  Gardens,   95, 
101-102;  Nag's  Head,  Sonthwark, 
320;  Old  Baptist  Head,   126,  170; 
One     Tun,    274;     Ozinda's,    300: 
Palsgrave's    Head,     Strand,    247; 
Palsgrave  Restaurant,    208;   Para- 
dise,  238;    Parsloo's,   St.   .Tames's 
Street,    62;    Piecadillo    Hall,    295; 
Pied  Bull,  Islington,  249,  250;  Pil- 
lars of   Hercules,  201;    Pineapple, 
New  Street,  150;  Plough,  Clapham, 
201;  Plough,  Plough  Court,  Carey 
Street,     198;    Poet's     Head,    301; 
Pontack's,    102,   299,   300;    Pope's 
He.*d,       Chancery      Lane,      239 ; 
Pope's  Head,  Pope's  Head  Alley, 
239;     Portland     Hotel,    Portland 
Place,  320;  Quaker,  Westminster, 
239  ;  Queen's  Arms, Cheapside,  179 ; 
Queen's  Arms,  Newgate  Street,  97, 
168;    Queen's    Arms,    St.    Paul's 
Churchyard,    107,    108;    Queen's 
Head,    Cheapside,    179;     Queen's 
Head,  Islington,  249,  250;  Queen's 
^Ilotel,    Queen   Street,    Soho,    125; 
Eainbow,  27;  Red  Lion  and  Sun, 
Highgate,  59;    Red   Lion,   Parlia- 
ment  Street,  81 ;   Rhenish  Wine, 
Canon     Row,    Westminster,    239; 
Rhenish  Wine,  Steel  Yard,  Upper 
Thames  Street,  239;  Richard's,  07; 


Rising   Sun,    Enfield,   191;    R(;bin 
Hootl,    Esse.K   Street,    StrantI,   28; 
Kubinson's,    (Sharing    Cross,    260; 
Rose,   B-ydges   Street,  113;  Rose, 
Holborn 'llill,    301;  Rose,   Russell 
Street,  Covent  Garden,  239;  Rum- 
mer, Spring   Gardens,   240;    Run- 
ning    Fooiman,     Charles     Street, 
Berkeley   Square,  24;  St.  James's 
Coffee  House,  St.  James's   Street, 
7,   89,  290,   SggTSfTTames's  IIo- 
teTT^'nnyn    Street,    263;    ■Saluta- 
tion, Newgate  Street,   60;  Saluta- 
tion and  Cat,  Newgate  Street,  60, 
187,    285;     Samson's,    St.    Paul's 
Churchyard,    236;    Serle's,   8,   10; 
Sliij),    Charing   Cross,    246;    Ship, 
Little    Tower   Street,    307;    Simp- 
son's,    Strand,     170;    Sir    Richard 
Steele's,     Haverstcick     Hill,     290; 
Slaughter's,  61,  242;  Smyrna,  247, 
299,  300,  308;   Southampton  Coffee 
House,     Southamiiton     Buildings, 
135;  Squire's,  8;  Star  and  Garter, 
Pall  Mall,   247,  300;   Star,  Cheap- 
side,      239;       Sun-behind-the-Ex- 
chauge,  239;  Sun,  Chancery  Lane, 
239 ;   Sun,  King  Street,   Westmin- 
ster, 239;  Sun,  New   Fish   Street, 
239;  Swan,  Fenchurch  Street,  239; 
Swan,  Old  Fish  Street,  239;  Swan, 
Tottenham,  314-315;  Tabard,  Sonth- 
wark, 48;  Talbot,  South wark,  48;, 
Thatched  House,  St.  James's  Street,' 
204,  291 ;  Three-Cranes-iu-the-Vin- 
try,    170,    237;     Three    Feathers, 
Russell    Street,     Covent     Garden, 
101;     Three    Pigeons,    Brentford, 
177;  Three    Tuns,  Charing   Cross, 
239;  Tom's,  Birchin  Lane,  44-45; 
Tom's,    Devereux   Court,    Strand, 
10 ;  Tom's,  Russell  Street,  Covent 
Garden,  x,   55,   62,  170,  226,  282; 
Triumphant  Chariot,  Hyde    Park 
Corner,  261,  291;  Trumjpet,  Shire 
Lane,  8,  291;  Turk's  Head,  Gerard 
Street,     Soho,     123,     167;    Turk's 
Head,  New  Palace  Yard,  2:i8,  238; 
Turk's    Head,    Strand,    98,    170 


INDEX  OF   PLACES. 


365 


245;  Upper  Flask,  Hampstead,  9, 
242,  289;  Vauxhall,  61;  Victoria, 
Muswell  Hill,  221;  Walker's  Hotel, 
Queen  Street,  Solio,  124-125; 
Waterloo  Hotel,  Jennj-n  Street, 
2(«;  West  Indian,  St.  Michael's 
Alley,  Conihill,  245;  White  Bear, 
Southwark,  207;  White  Conduit 
Tavern,  Islington,  126;  White 
Conduit  Tea  Gardens,  Islington, 
126;  White  Hart,  High  Street 
Borough,  270;  White  Horse,  Chel- 
se^i,  291;  White  Horse,  Kensing- 
ton, 4;  White  Horse,  Lombard 
Street,  239;  White  Rose,  West- 
minster, 47;  White  Swan,  Totten- 
ham, ;n4-315;  Will's,  v,  x,  7, 
95,  113,  170,  175,  189,  234,  243, 
282,  291,  299;  World's  End, 
Knightsbridge,  239  ;  Wrekin,  118, 
154-155. 

Tavistock  House,  Bloomsburj' 
Square,  131. 

Tavistock  House,  Tavistock  Square, 
84,  217. 

Tavistock  Row,  Covent  Garden,  321. 

Tavistock  Square,  84,  217. 

Teddington,  232. 

Telegraph  Street,  Coleman  Street, 
Cify,  20,  21. 

Temple  (see  Inner  Temple,  and 
Middle  Temple). 

Temple  Bar,  7,  8,  17,  67,  169,  172, 
173,  175,  208,  236,  238,  272,  300, 
313. 

Temple  Church,  123. 

Temple  Gardens,  104-105,  121. 

Temple  Gate,  169,  175. 

Temple  I'lace,  Blackfriars  Row,  141. 

Thames  Street,  47,  197. 

Thatched  House  Tavern,  St.  .James's 
^    Street,  204,  291. 

Thaver  Street,  Slanchester  Square, 
102. 

The  Club  (see  Club,  The). 

Theobalds,  Cheshunt,  Herts,  317. 

Thistle  Grove,  Fulham  Road,  Chel- 
sea, 153. 

Thomas  Street,  Southwark,  10. 


Threadneedle  Street,  130,  185,  200, 
222.  223,  235,  276. 

Three-Craues-in-the-Vintry,  176,  237. 

Three  Cranes  Lane,  Upper  Thames 
Street,  176. 

Three  Feathers  Inn,  Russell  Street, 
Covent  Garden,  101. 

Three  Pigeons  Inn,  Brentford,  177. 

Three  Tuns  Inn,  Charing  Cross,  239. 

Throgmorton  Avenue,  200. 

Throgmorton  Street,  130,  200. 

Thurloe  Place,  South  Kensington, 
112. 

Tilbury,  76. 

Titchfield  Street,  Soho,  78. 

Tokenhouse  Yard,  Lothbury,  138. 

Tom's  Coffee  House,  Birchin  Lane, 
44-45. 

Tom's  Coffee  House,  Devereux  Court, 
Strand,  10. 

Tom's  Coffee  House,  Russell  Street, 
Covent  Garden,  x,  55,  62,  170,  226, 
282. 

Took's  Court,  Cursitor  Street,  Chan- 
cery Lane,  274. 

Tooley  Street,  Southwark,  179,  238. 

Torqua}',  24. 

Tothil  Fields,  Westminster,  283. 

Tothill  Street,  Westminster,  27,  283, 
284. 

Tottenham,  314-315. 

Tottenham  Court  Road,  viii,  318. 

Tottenham  Court  Road  Chapel,  318. 

Tottenham  Cross,  il4. 

Tower  Chapel,  225. 

Tower  Hill,  225,  231,  2.32,  285. 

Tower  of  London,  47.  225,  2.32,  235, 
249,  250,  251,  301,  309,  320. 

Tower  Street,  230. 

Trafalgar  Bay,  125. 

Trafalgar  Square,  41,  206,  213,  278. 

Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  70,  91, 
172,"  195. 

Trinity  Row  (Upper  Street),  Isling- 
ton, 87. 

Trinity  Square,  Newington  Cause- 
way, 146. 

Triumphant  Chariot  Tavern,  Hyde 
Park  Corner,  261,  291. 


3G6 


INDEX  OF   PLACES. 


'rnimpot  Inn,  Sliire  Liiiic,  8,  291. 
Tiiftdii  Street,  Westminster,  179. 
Tnlly's  Ileail,  Tall  Mall,  11,  28,  257, 

312. 
Timbridgc  Wells,  71,  278. 
Turk's   Ilead  CulTee  House,  Strand, 

98,  170,  245. 
Turk's   Head   Tavern,    New    Palace 

Yard,  208,  2:58. 
Turk's     Head    Tavern,    Soho,    12-J, 

1G7. 
Twickenham,  12,  105,  219,  232,  241, 

242. 
Twickenham  Church,  242. 
Twickenham  Park,  12. 
Tvbuni,  293. 

Umon  Cluh,  278. 

Union  Road,  Newington  Causeway, 

140. 
Union  Street,  Borough,  320. 
United  Service  Club,  207. 
Universit}'  Street,  Tottenham  Court 

Road,  79. 
Upper    Berkeley     Street,     Portman 

Square,  194. 
Upper  Cheyne   Row,    Chelsea,   146- 

147,  281.' 
Upper  Flask  Tavern,   Hampstead,  9, 

242,  2^9. 
Upper  Grosvenor  Street,  89. 
Upper     Ilarley     Street,     Cavendish 

Square,  248" 
Upper  iMall,  Hammersmith,  227,  308. 
Upper     Seymour    Street,     Portman 

Square,  23.  39. 
Upper  Street,  Islington,  69,  87. 
Upper  Thames  Street,  45,  105,  176, 

239,  285. 
Upton  Road,  154. 
Uxbridge  House,  112. 
Oxbridge  Road,  17,  106,  151. 

Vai.e     of     Health,     Hampstead 

Heath,  148,  179. 
Vauxhall,  61. 

Vere  Street,  Clare  Market,  290. 
Vernlam,  13. 
Vesuvius,  24. 


Victoria  Inn,  Muswell  Hill,  221. 
Victoria  Street,  Buckingham  Palace 

Road,  37. 
Villiers  Street,  Strand,  12,  81,  101, 

290. 
Vinegar  Yard,  Drury  Lane,  274. 
Vme  Street,  Westminster,  50. 

Wai^kkh's    Hotel,    Queen    Street, 

Soho,  124,  125. 
Wallingford  House,  Wliitehall,  66. 
Wallhamstow,  Essex,  89. 
Walwortii  Road,  284, 
Wardour  Street,  Soho,  134,  275. 
Wardrobe  Place,  Doctors'  Commons, 

265. 
Wardrol)e    Terrace,     St.     Andrew's 

Hill,  265. 
Warner  Street,  Clerkenwell,  296. 
Warwick  Lane,  Paternoster  Row,  94. 
Warwick  Street,  Charing  Cross,  282. 
Waterloo  Bridge,  46. 
Waterloo  Hotel,  .Jermvii  Street,  203. 
Waterloo  Place,   Pall" Mall,  24,  200, 

221,  258,  202,  298. 
Water  Oakley,  9. 
Waller's  Club,  34. 
Watling  Street,  City,  45,  210-211. 
Wclbeck   Street,  Cavendish  Square, 

114. 
Wellclosc  Square,  Shadwell,  54,  75. 
Wellington    Barracks,    St.   James's 

Park,  115. 
Well  Road,  Hampstead,  180. 
Well  Walk,  Hampstead,  16,  179,  180. 
Wells  Lane,  Sydenham,  30. 
Weutworth     House,     .lohn     Street, 

Hampstead,  180-181,  182. 
Weutworth    Place,    Downshire    Hill, 

Hampstead,  180-181,  182. 
Westbourne  Grove,  148. 
West  Horsley.  Surrey,  252. 
West  Indian  Tavern,  St.  Michael's 

Alley,  Cornhill,  245. 
West    Kensington    Road,    Hammer- 
smith, 254. 
Westminster  Abbev,   5,  20,  24,   37, 

.39,  47,  51,  .53,  60,  74,  91,  94,  101, 

112,  130,    164-165,    172,   173,    174, 


INDEX  OF   PLACES. 


367 


20.3-204,  214,    227,  229,  259,  264, 

274,  285,  286,  288,  315. 
Westminster  Bridge,  163. 
Westminster  Hall,  225. 
Westminster  Hospital,  28. 
Westminster  Sciiool,  50,  51,  61,  G2, 

64,  65,  66-67,  70,  91,  114,  136,  171, 

173,  195,  197,  246,  258,  284,  309. 
West  Street,  Finsbury  Circus,  178. 
Wevmouth   Street,    Portland   Place, 

248,  279, 
White    Bear    Inn,     Bear    Gardens, 

Southwalk,  207. 
White  Conduit  Tavern,  126. 
White  Conduit  Tea  Gardens,  126. 
Whitefriars,  275. 
Whitehall,  V,  41,  101,  112,  207,  213, 

233,  230,  244,  246,  299. 
Whitehall  Gardens,  89. 
White  Hart  Inn,   High  Street,  Bor- 
ough, 270. 
White  Horse  Inn,  Chelsea,  291. 
White  Horse  Inn,  Kensington,  4. 
White  Horse  Inn,   Lombard  Street, 

239. 
Whitehorse  Street,  Piccadilly,  262. 
White    Rose    Tavern,    Westminster, 

47. 
White's  Club,  54. 
White  Swan   Inn,  Tottenham,  314- 

315. 
Whittington  Club,  153,  170,  258. 
Whitton,  294. 
Wigmore  Street,  Cavendish  Square, 

220. 
Wild  Court,  Great  Wild  Street,  111. 
Wilderness  I.ane,  229. 
Willis's    Rooms,    King    Street,    St. 

.James's  Street,  305. 
Will's  Coffee  House,  v,  x,  7,  95,  113 

170,  175,  189,  237,  243,  282,  291, 

299. 
Wimbledon,  309,  310. 
Wimbledon  Common,  206-207,  309. 
Wimbledon  House,  Wimbledon  Com- 
mon, 206. 
Wimbledon  Park,  206. 

;^3 


Wimpole  Street,  Cavendish  Square. 

27,  71,  1-31,  151. 
Winchester  Park,  Bankside,  26G. 
Winchester  Street,  Bankside,  266. 
Winchester  Yard,  Bankside,  266. 
Windmill  Hill,  Hampstead,  14-15. 
Windmill  Street,  Piccadillv,  295. 
Wine  Office  Court,  120, 170. 
Woodbridge  Street.  Clerkenwell,  75, 

264,  316. 
Woodford,  Essex,  278. 
Woodstock    Street,    Oxford    Street, 

157. 
Wood   Street,    Cheapside,   136,   176, 

236,  322. 
World's  End  Tavern,  Knightsbridge, 

2.39. 
Wormwood  Street,  Old  Broad  Street, 

235. 
Wrekin  Tavern,  118,  154-155. 
Wych  Street,  Urury  Lane,  222. 
Wyndham  Place,  Bryanston  Square, 

194. 

Yarrow,  322. 

York  Buildings,  New  Road,  146. 

York     Buildings,     Villiers     Street. 

Strand,  290. 
York  Chambers,  St.  James's  Street 

37. 
York     Gate,     Buckingham     Street 

Strand,  12,  230. 
York  House,  11-12,  290. 
York  Mews,  Fulham  IJoad,  221. 
York  Place,  Marylebone  IJoad,  146. 
York  Place,  Queen's  Elms,  Bromp- 

ton,  221 
York  Street,  Buckingham  Gate,  11.5. 
York  Street,  Co  vent  Garden,  79,  84 

237. 
York  Street,  Westminster,  132-133 

214. 
Young  Street,  Kensington,  303,  30S 

ZoAR  Chapel,  Southwa'k,  25. 
Zoar  Street,  Southwark,  25. 
Zutphen,  276. 


LITERARY  LANDMARKS  OF  EDINBURGH. 

By  Laurence  Hutton,  Author  of  "  Curiosities  of  the 
American  Stage/'  "  Literary  Landmarks  of  London," 
etc.  Illustrated,  pp.  136.  Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Orna- 
mental, $1  00. 

The  town  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  in  the  world,  and  Mr, 
Flutton  has  given  his  glimpses  of  its  literary  life,  past  and  present, 
with  taste  and  judgment. — Observer,  N.  Y. 

With  marked  skill  Mr.  Laurence  Hutton  has,  in  this  volume,  pre- 
sented an  endless  amount  of  valuable  information  relative  to  the 
many  illustrious  men  of  letters  who  have  lived  in  Edinburgh.  He 
has  hunted  up  tradition,  verified  the  facts,  as  only  a  passionate  pil- 
grim could,  and  we  are  grateful  to  him  for  the  planting  of  these  lit- 
erary landmarks. — IV.  V.  Times. 

An  entertaining  and  useful  little  volume.  .  .  .  The  visitor  to  Edin- 
burgh must  get  hold  of  this  book  without  fail  ;  it  will  be  invaluable 
to  him  ;  the  stay-at-liome  reader  will  pass  a  very  pleasant  hour  in  its 
company.  —  Critic,  N.  Y. 

Mr.  Hutton  is  a  very  thorough  and  conscientious  workman.  He 
collects  his  fact  on  the  spot,  and  seeks  always  to  verify  it.  .  .  .  The 
reader  can  repose  full  confidence  in  his  statements. — A^.  Y.  Ti-ibune. 

Mr.  Hutton  has  added  a  worthy  volume  to  his  "  Literary  Land- 
marks of  London.".  .  .  Mr.  Hutton  has  satisfied  himself  of  the  truth 
of  every  statement  that  he  makes,  and  has  visited  personally  every 
one  of  the  landmarks  of  which  he  writes. — N.  V.  Mail  and  Express. 

The  little  book  is  studied  up  with  Mr.  Hutton 's  well-known  pains- 
taking carefulness,  which  has  taken  him  well  out  of  the  beaten  track 
on  to  ground  untrodden  except  by  such  devotees  as  himself,  and  given 
us  a  book  deliciously  filled  with  things  worth  reading. — Independent, 
N.  Y. 

The  title  is  both  descriptive  and  suggestive,  and  well-executed  il- 
lustrations add  to  the  value  of  the  work.  It  is  a  rare  piece  of  literary 
work,  and  will  be  highly  prized  by  scholarly  men  all  over  the  world. 
— N.  Y.  Joui'nal  of  Coinmeire. 

Mr.  Hutton.  .  .  .  has  made  the  most  of  opportunities  which  he 
found  on  every  hand  during  some  weeks  of  pleasant  examination  of 
the  nooks  and  corners  of  the  ancient  town  to  learn  its  literary  tradi- 
tions.—  Boston  Traveller. 

Will  be  an  invaluable  guide  to  any  one  visiting  the  Scottish  capi- 
tal ;  at  the  same  time  it  is  full  of  entertainment  for  those  who  stay  at 
home. — Literary  World,  Boston. 

The  "  Literary  Landmarks  of  Edinburgh  "  was  evidently  a  work 
of  love  for  Laurence  Hutton.  He  has  put  into  it  much  of  his  strong 
feeling  for  many  of  the  authors  whose  haunts  he  visited,  and  the  re- 
sult is  a  charming  book. — San  Francisco  Chronicle. 


Published  ky  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  New  York. 

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THE    AMERICAN    STAGE. 

Curiosities  of  the  American  Stage.  By  Laurence  Hut- 
ton.  With  Copious  and  Characteristic  Illustrations. 
pp.  xi.,  347.  Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt 
Top,  $2  50. 

Mr.  Hutton  has  packed  a  marvellous  amount  of  curious  informa- 
tion into  his  pages.  .  .  .  To  collectors  this  volume  must  be  quite  in- 
dispensable, and  there  is  no  lover  of  the  theatre  who  will  not  find  it 
entertaining  and  instructive. ^A^.  V.  'J'ribinw. 

JVlr.  Hutton  writes  entertainingly  and  with  knowledge  of  the  stage, 
and  his  new  book  is  crammed  full  of  facts.  .  .  .  No  writer  on  this  sub- 
ject is  more  painstaking  and  accurate  than  Laurence  Hutton.  His 
sources  of  information  are  as  trustworthy  as  possible.  His  memory 
is  generally  clear  and  unerring. — A^.  Y.  Times. 

Theatrical  literature  has  nothing  better  and  few  things  as  good.  .  .  . 
Mr.  Hutton  seems  to  have  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  jiersonal  reminis- 
cences, and  to  these  he  has  added  all  sorts  of  curious  information  from 
other  sources.  —  Cinciiinati  Times- Star. 

One  of  the  most  important  contributions  yet  made  to  the  history  of 
our  native  drama.  ...  It  is  not  only  a  history  of  the  American  stage, 
but  it  suggests  the  interests  and  amusements  of  the  American  people 
for  the  past  century,  and  the  advance  in  literary  and  dramatic  stand- 
ards. This  is  a  book  which  will  fill  a  valuable  and  permanent  place 
as  a  book  of  reference,  and  as  a  cleverly  told  and  interesting  history 
of  the  people  who  have  amused  the  American  public.  ...  Mr.  Hut- 
ton is  to  be  congratulated  upon  the  clearness  and  fulness  of  his  work, 
which,  taken  as  a  whole,  is  a  unique  and  valuable  addition  to  the  lit- 
erature of  this  century. — Bos/on  'Traveller. 

This  is  by  far  the  best  book  of  its  kind ;  some  readers  may  go  fur- 
ther and  pronounce  it  the  only  book  of  its  kind.  Neither  historical 
nor  biographical,  it  is  full  of  interesting  chat  about  stage  people — more 
than  five  hundred  of  them. — JV.  Y.  Herald. 

Mr.  Hutton  has  brought  to  bear  on  his  subject  both  sympathy  and 
appreciation.  Moreover,  his  well-tested  knowledge  and  his  well- 
known  accuracy  stamp  all  his  statements  with  a  double  value,  all  of 
these  things  giving  to  his  "Curiosities"  an  importance  not  to  be 
attained  by  the  average  collection,  and  carrying  his  volume  far  beyond 
the  level  of  his  own  modest  estimate. — N.  Y.  AI ail  and  Express. 

Mr.  Hutton  has  an  unerring  instinct  for  discerning  what  to  collect 
and  what  to  omit  from  his  book.  A  more  delightful  treasury  of  the 
"  Curiosities  of  the  American  Stage  "  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceive. 
— Philadelphia  Ledger. 


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UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA      000  297  633    0 


110 

Hutton.  > 


Southern  Branch 
of  the 

University  of  California 


Los  Angeles 

Form  L  1 

TR 

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\-tH3 

cop.  1 

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